THE 


BLACKWATER  CHRONICLE 


A    NARRATIVE    OF   AN    EXPEDITION    INTO 

THE   LAND   OF  CANAAN, 

IN    RANDOLPH    COUNTY,    VIRGINIA, 

A  COUNTRY  FLOWING  WITH  WILD  ANIMALS,    SUCH  AS    PANTHERS, 

BEARS,  WOLVES,  ELK,   DEER,  OTTER,  BADGER,  &c.,  &c.,  WITH 

INNUMERABLE    TROUT—  BY  FIVE  ADVENTUROUS   GENTLE 

MEN,  WITHOUT  ANY  AID  OF  GOVERNMENT,  AND  SOLELY 

BY  THEIR  OWN  RESOURCES,  IN  THE  SUMMER  OF  1851. 


nf 


WITH    ILLUSTRATIONS    FROM     LIFE    BY     STROTHER. 


]R^E  D  F  I  E  L  D 

110    AND    112    NASSAU    STREET,    NEW    YORK. 

1853. 


Entered,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1853, 

BY  J.  S.  REDFIELD, 

in  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  United  States,  in  and  for  the 
Southern  District  of  New  York. 


STERKOTYPED    BY    C.    C.    SAVAGE, 
13  Chambers  Street,  N.  Y. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  I. 
Introductory 6 

CHAPTER  II. 
Getting  under  Way 15 

CHAPTER  III. 

In  which  the  Expedition  dances  a  Hornpipe  on  the  Top  of  a 
Mountain 24 

CHAPTER  IV. 

The  Cockneys  explained  by  the  Prior  of  St.  Philips,  from  the 
Top  of  the  Allegany 35 

CHAPTER  V. 
Winston  and  its  Castellan  —  Mr.  Edward  Towers 51 

CHAPTER  VI. 
The  Blackwater  Invasion  determined  upon 63 

CHAPTER  VII. 

The  Dale  on  the  Potomac  —  and  a  Somewhat  Particular  De 
scription  on  the  Array 83 


M600836 


4  CONTENTS. 

PAGE. 

CHAPTER  VIII. 
The  March  into  the  Canaan 102 

CHAPTER  IX. 
The  Lodge  in  the  Wilderness 120 

CHAPTER  X. 

The  Blackwater  Found  —  A  Great  Number  of  Trout  taken  — 
Mr.  Butcut  fries  some  Fish 130 

CHAPTER  XL 

The  Blackwater  Villa 145 

CHAPTER  XII. 
The  Falls  of  the  Blackwater 159 

CHAPTER  XIIL 
How  we  got  out  of  the  Canaan  —  and  in  Spite  of  our  Teeth.  .    181 

CHAPTER  XIV. 

The  Return  to  Winston —  "Bootless  Home  and  Weather-beaten 
Back."..  ...   209 


THE 


BLACKVATER  CHRONICLE, 


CHAPTEK   I. 

INTRODUCTORY. 

IF  the  reader  will  take  down  the  map  of  Virginia, 
and  look  at  Randolph  county,  he  will  find  that  the 
Black  water  is  a  stream  that  makes  down  from  the 
north  into  the  Cheat  river,  some  few  miles  below 
the  point  where  that  river  is  formed  by  the  junc 
tion  of  the  Dry  fork,  the  Laurel  fork,  and  the  Glade 
fork — the  Shavers,  or  Great  fork,  falling  in  some 
miles  below :  all  rising  and  running  along  the  west 
ern  side  of  the  Backbone  of  the  Alleganies. 

The  country  embraced  by  these  head-waters  of 
the  Cheat  river  is  called  "The  Canaan"  —  a  wilder 
ness  of  broken  and  rugged  mountains — its  streams 
falling  through  deep  clefts,  or  leaping  down  in  great 
cataracts,  into  the  Cheat,  that  sweeps  the  base  of 
the  Backbone. 


6  THE    BLACKWATER    CHRONICLE. 

It  is  to  the  Blackwater,  one  among  the  largest  of 
these  streams  of  the  Canaan,  that  we  purpose  to 
take  the  reader.  If,  therefore,  his  fancy  urges  him 
to  the  venture,  let  him  come  with  us.  All  he  has 
to  do  is  to  set  himself  down  in  his  easy-chair,  and 
lend  us  his  ears.  By  the  magic  of  this  scroll  we 
shall  take  him. 

This  Blackwater  (it  should  be  called  Amberwa- 
ter),  and  north  source  of  the  Cheat,  rises  high  up  on 
the  western  slope  of  the  Backbone,  directly  across 
from  the  Fairfax  stone — where  the  head-spring  of 
the  Potomac  has  its  source  on  this  the  eastern  side 
of  the  mountain  ;  and  it  is  supposed  that  these  head 
waters  of  the  two  rivers  are  not  more  than  some 
half  a  mile  (or  mile  at  most)  apart.  The  Backbone, 
following  a  general  course  from  north  to  south,  here 
turns  at  almost  a  right- angle,  and  takes  across  to 
the  eastward  some  fifteen  miles,  when  it  regains  its 
former  southerly  direction,  thus  forming  a  zigzag 
in  its  course.  At  the  point  where  it  first  makes  the 
bend  to  the  east,  a  large  spur — apparently  the  Back 
bone  itself — keeps  straight  to  the  south,  and  butts 
down  on  the  Cheat,  at  the  distance  of  some  ten  or 
twelve  miles.  Between  this  large  spur  and  the 
point  where  the  Backbone  bends  to  the  south  again, 
is  contained  the  cove  of  mountains  which  is  called 
the  Canaan.  This  region  of  country  is  in  the  very 
highest  range  of  the  Alleganies,  lying  in  the  main 
some  three  thousand  feet  above  the  level  of  the  sea. 


INTRODUCTORY.  7 

Until  a  few  years  past,  the  whole  of  the  district 
embraced  by  the  head-waters  of  the  Potomac  and 
the  Cheat  was  as  remote  and  inaccessible  as  any 
part  of  the  long  range  of  the  Alleganies.  But  some 
few  years  ago,  the  state  of  Virginia  constructed  a 
graded  road  from  Winchester  to  Parkersburg,  which 
passes  over  the  Backbone  through  the  Potomac  lim 
its;  and  consequently  this  portion  of  the  district 
has  become  opened  out  somewhat  to  the  knowledge 
of  the  world,  and  has  since  been  settled  to  a  consid 
erable  extent.  The  Baltimore  and  Ohio  railroad 
also  passes  near  here  —  at  a  distance  from  the  head 
waters  of  the  Potomac  varying  from  ten  to  twenty 
miles.  The  railroad  will  bring  all  this  region  within 
a  day's  travel  of  the  seaboard ;  and  as  the  country 
lies  about  the  head  of  the  Maryland  glades — in 
themselves  a  source  of  attraction — and  contains 
within  its  range  many  tracts  of  land  of  great  fertility 
and  beauty,  it  is  not  irrational  to  suppose  that  it 
will  be  cleared  out  and  settled  with  rapidity. 

As  it  is,  there  is  a  good  settlement  around  here 
already  —  the  result,  in  the  main,  of  the  construc 
tion  of  the  Northwestern  road.  Long,  however,  be 
fore  this  road  was  made,  there  was  a  Mr.  Smith  who 
pitched  his  tent  in  these  wilds  some  fifty  years  or 
more  ago,  I  am  informed,  and  cleared  out  and  im 
proved  a  handsome  estate  for  himself,  lying  along 
the  Maryland  shore  of  the  Potomac,  and  containing 
some  fifteen  hundred  acres  of  fine  land  of  varied 


8  THE    BLACKWATER    CHRONICLE. 

liill  and  dale.     The  Smiths  are  now  gone,  and  the 
estate  has  passed  into  other  hands.     In  the  older 
times  a  tavern  was  kept  here,  for  the  accommoda 
tion  of  the  few  people  who  crossed  these  mountains. 
But  when  the  northwestern  road  came  by,  the  mar 
vels  of  a  good  highway  were  made  manifest  in  the 
increased  travel,  that  soon  became  too  great  for  the 
capabilities  of  the  once-unfriended  inn.     About  this 
period,  a  gentleman  from  the  city  of  Washington, 
journeying  this  way  to  escape  the  heats  of  the  sea 
board,  was  so  taken  with  the  pleasant  temperature 
of  the  air  and  the  wild  beauty  of  the  mountains, 
that   he    bought    the    place — impelled    somewhat 
thereto,  no  doubt,  by  the  trout  in  the  streams  and 
the  deer  in  the  forests.     Under  his  rule  a  new  house 
was  erected,  large  enough  to  hold  a  goodly  compa 
ny.     This  is  the  house — fair  enough  to  look  upon 
in  its  outside  array,  and  comfortable  enough  within 
—  that  now  stands  imposing,  not  far  away  from  the 
old  one,  on  the  brow  of  a  lofty  hill  overlooking  the 
Potomac.    "  Winston"  the  place  is  called  —  so  called 
because  the  eighty-seventh  milestone  from  Winches 
ter  is  won  when  you  reach  its  door.     Edward  Tow 
ers  keeps  it — or  did,  when  the  Black  water  expedi 
tion  won  the  stone.     Here,  for  some  years  past,  ma 
ny  of  our  citizens,  of  both  Virginia  and  Maryland, 
have  been  in  the  habit  of  resorting  in  the  summer 
and  fall  months,  to  fish  for  trout,  hunt  the  deer, 
shoot  pheasants,  wild  turkeys,  woodcock  in  their 


INTRODUCTORY.  9 

season,  and  enjoy  the  invigorating  atmosphere  of  a 
country  whose  level  is  so  high  above  the  sea. 

The  ride  to  this  place  over  the  Northwestern  road 
is  exquisitely  delightful,  and  withal  as  easy  as  a 
ride  can  well  be.  You  travel  over  a  graded  slate 
road —  the  perfection  of  a  summer  highway  —  engi 
neered  skilfully,  and  at  but  a  low  grade,  through 
the  gorges  and  defiles  of  these  fine  mountains,  and, 
when  crossing  any  of  them,  seeming  to  have  been 
carried  over  purposely  at  those  points  where  the 
scenery  is  of  the  grandest  or  most  beautiful  charac 
ter.  Take  it  altogether,  for  the  excellence  of  the 
road,  and  the  varied  combinations  of  scenery  that 
are  ever  presenting  themselves  to  view,  there  is  no 
route  across  the  mountains  anywhere  that  excels  it. 
With  a  pair  of  good  horses  in  a  light  carriage,  you 
can  speed  along  all  the  way  as  if  you  were  taking 
an  evening  drive  about  your  home,  even  though 
your  home  be  where  the  roads  are  the  best  in  the 
land.  And  then,  what  exhilaration  of  spirit  is  felt 
by  you  as  you  roll  smoothly  along  at  the  rate  of 
some  ten  miles  an  hour,  your  horses  scarcely  stretch 
ing  a  trace  —  seeming  merely  to  keep  out  of  the 
way  of  the  wheels!  —  on  one  side  of  you  a  deep 
gorge,  a  thousand  feet  down,  dark  with  hemlocks 
and  firs,  where  a  mountain-stream  breaks  its  way  to 
the  sea ;  above  you,  high-towering  peaks  and  over 
hanging  cliffs,  where  the  oak  or  stately  fir  has  cast 
anchor,  and  held  on  for  ages  in  defiance  of  all  the 

I* 


10  THE    BLACKWATER    CHRONICLE. 

storms  of  the  Alleganies ;  while  before  you,  afar  off, 
glittering  in  the  sunshine,  are  seen  in  glimpses  the 
green  fields  and  meadows  of  some  fair,  luxuriant 
valley;  and  the  whole  horizon  bounded  by  lofty 
mountains  that  seem  to  defy  all  approach,  but  which 
you  at  length  wind  your  way  through  by  some  con 
cealed  cleft,  the  bed  of  a  stream,  with  scarcely  any 
more  of  obstruction  than  a  bowling-green  would 
present  to  your  glowing  wheels. 

There  are  but  few  things  more  agreeably  exciting 
to  the  spirits  than  a  rapid  drive  through  the  coun 
try  on  a  good  road.  There  are  some  who  will  not 
assent  to  this  proposition ;  but  they  are  not  to  be 
deferred  to  in  these  matters  of  fastness,  and  do  not 
understand  the  philosophy  of  the  human  soul.  "  The 
power  of  agitation  upon  the  spirits,"  says  Dr.  John 
son,  "is  well  known.  Every  man  has  felt  his  heart 
lightened  by  a  rapid  drive  or  a  gallop  on  a  swift 
horse."  This  might  be  only  a  little  closet  philoso 
phy  of  the  sturdy  old  despot  of  letters,  maintained 
in  theory  but  belied  in  practice,  like  our  famous 
doctrine  of  state-rights  here  in  Virginia ;  but  we 
have  it  on  record  that  the  rough  old  viking  of  our 
English  literature  considered  it  one  of  the  prime  fe 
licities  of  his  lite  to  ride  in  a  stage-coach,  even  at 
the  rate  of  speed  attainable  in  his  day.  If  one  of 
the  soundest  moral  philosophers  that  any  age  or 
country  has  produced  can  be  shown  as  both  theo 
retically  and  practically  enforcing  the  happiness  of 


INTRODUCTORY.  1 1 

rapid  motion  —  at  least  to  the  extent  that  could  be 
achieved  by  an  English  stage-coach,  and  over  the 
comparatively  rude  thoroughfares  leading  out  of 
London  a  hundred  years  ago — >ante  Ayamemnona, 
fhat  is,  before  M'Adam — how  much  more  delight 
ful  must  be  the  agitation  of  your  spirits,  and  the 
consequent  lightening  of  your  heart,  when  the  at 
mosphere  you  breathe,  as  you  drive  smoothly  along 
behind  a  pair  of  untiring  thoroughbreds,  is  the  very 
purest,  and  the  scenes  around  you  are  among  the 
grandest  or  most  beautiful  of  a  whole  continent! 
And  all  this  too,  recollect,  with  a  splendid  craving 
all  over  you — feeling  it  even  at  your  finger-ends — 
everywhere  —  for  food:  visions  of  venison-steaks, 
and  hot  rolls,  and  fresh  summer  butter,  made  where 
the  meadows  are  "  with  daisies  pied,"  floating 
through  your  crowded  and  hunger-enraptured  brain 
— and  with  the  certainty,  too,  all  the  while  in  your 
mind,  that  you  can  not  apparently  kill  this  craving 
for  the  time  being  with  anything  in  the  shape  of  a 
breakfast,  dinner,  supper,  or  what  not,  but  it  will 
be  all  powerful  again  upon  you  in  some  three  or 
four  hours!  —  an  appetite  seemingly  endowed  with 
the  quality  of  the  phoenix,  that  out  of  its  own  ashes 
renews  itself — 

"revives  and  flourishes, 


Like  that  self-begotten  bird, 

In  the  Arabian  woods  embossed" — 

not  surpassed  by  anything  of  the  sort  that  we  have 


12  THE   BLACKWATER    CHRONICLE. 

on  record — not  by  Sancho  Panza's,  nor  by  Ritt- 
rnaster  Dugald  Dalgetty's,  nor  yet  that  of  the  migh 
ty  heroes  of  the  Iliad  —  aptly  to  describe  which  the 
genius  of  Homer  was  only  equal,  when  the  divine 
old  bard  sings  of  it  as  the  sacred  rage  of  hunger. 

If  any  mortal  of  these  sated  days  would  wish 
fully  to  appreciate  what  this  Homeric  rage  is,  let 
him  take  this  ride  to  the  Alleganies ;  and  though 
he  should  be  of  a  nobler  spirit  than  Esau,  yet  will 
he  in  his  inmost  soul  commiserate  that  poor  devil 
for  having  sold  his  birthright  for  a  mess  of  pottage. 


GETTING    UNDER    WAY.  35 


CHAPTEE   II. 

GETTING    UNDER    WAY. 

'The  stout  earl  of  Northumberland 

A  vow  to  God  did  make, 
His  pleasure  on  the  Scottish  ground 
Three  summer  days  to  take." 

THE  stout  Earl  Percy,  here  alluded  to,  did  take 
his  pleasure  on  the  Scottish  ground  —  and  how,  all 
the  world  knows  that  has  read  the  fine  old  ballad 
of  "  Chevy  Chase."  How  the  stout  gentlemen,  and 
also  those  who  were  none  of  the  stoutest,  who  took 
their  pleasure  on  the  Blackwater,  came  off,  hearken 
to  the  following  chronicle,  and  you  shall  learn. 

It  was  toward  the  first  of  June  last  past,  that  a 
number  of  gentlemen,  residing  near  each  other,  in 
a  pleasant  part  of  that  rich  valley  vaunted  to  the 
world  as  the  garden  of  Virginia,  and  called  by  the 
people  of  the  mountain-ranges  back  of  it  the  land 
of  Egypt,  from  the  quantity  of  grain  which  it  pro 
duces,  determined  to  make  a  pleasure  expedition 
into  the  Allegany  country,  having  it  chiefly  in  view 
to  harry  its  streams  for  trout.  Accordingly,  on  one 
fine  morning  —  it  was  on  the  last  day  of  the  univer- 


16  THE    BLACKWATEK    CHRONICLE. 

sally-lauded  month  of  May  —  we  gathered  together, 
prepared  as^best  we  knew  how  for  the  expedition. 

It  was  at  the  pleasant  country-dwelling  of  Mr. 
Peter  Botecote,  one  of  our  number,  that  we  made 
our  rendezvous : — 

"And  Wat  of  Harden  came  thither  amain, 
And  thither  came  John  of  Thirlestane, 
And  thither  came  William  of  Delortiine" — 

and  all  the  rest  of  us  —  men,  dogs,  and  horses. 
Here,  after  some  animated  parley,  and  an  early  din 
ner,  it  was  resolved  that  we  should  forthwith  take 
our  departure,  notwithstanding  the  strawberries  that 
were  ripe  in  tlie  garden,  and  the  cream  that  was 
abounding  in  the  dairy,  and  what  too  was  far  more 
delaying,  the  fascination  of  our  lady-hostess.  Pleas 
ant  enough  this  bower  of  Botecote's ;  but  hope  smiled 
its  enchantments  upon  us  far  away,  from  the  very 
midst  of  the  wild  Alleganies,  and  our  hearts  were 
too  much  agog  and  all  a-tiptoe  with  its  illusions,  to 
think  of  staying.  The  delirium  of  the  mountains 
was  upon  us;  and  so,  amid  the  neighing  and  paw 
ing  of  horses,  the  speeding  to  and  fro  of  servants, 
the  dancing  eyes  of  children,  and  the  wife's  half- 
sorrowful  smile  as  she  committed  her  adventurous 
husband  to  the  destiny  of  a  two  or  three  weeks'  sep 
aration,  we  wheeled  into  order,  and  took  up  the  line 
of  march.  "  Hey  !"—"  Get  away  !"— «  Ho  !"— "  Ha, 
you  dog!" — whips  nourishing,  dogs  barking  —  all 
the  commotion  that  a  country-gentleman's  establish- 


GETTING    UNDEK   WAY.  17 

ment  could  well  get  up ;  every  good  spirit  attend 
ing,  to  say  nothing  of  the  high  ones :  thus  we  left 
the  Botecote  portals,  and — 

"All  the  blue  bonnets  are  over  the  border!" 

We  drove  to  "Winchester,  a  town  when  George 
II.  was  king  here  in  Virginia :  not  one  of  your  re 
cent  cities,  grown  up  to  a  hundred  thousand  people 
within  the  memory  of  men  alive,  but  an  old,  time- 
honored  town,  of  some  five  thousand  souls,  with  re 
membrances  about  it ;  familiar  to  the  footsteps  of 
Thomas,  the  sixth  Lord  Fairfax,  when  he  lived  at 
Greenway  court  (some  ten  miles  off),  and  held  pow 
er  as  lieutenant  of  the  county  of  Frederick,  hunted 
the  boar,  wrote  for  "  The  Spectator,"  and  set  twenty 
covers  daily  at  his  table  :  famous,  too,  in  our  provin 
cial  history,  as  the  military  headquarters  of  Wash 
ington  during  the  war  of  '65  against  the  French  for 
the  possession  of  the  western  country.  Here,  to 
this  old  border  stronghold  of  the  Dominion,  where 
the  dismantled  ramparts  of  Fort  Loudon  still  look 
down  upon  the  town,  we  drove  over  night,  a  matter 
of  some  twenty  miles,  ready  to  make  a  more  sus 
tained  movement  the  next  morning  on  Winston  — 
some  eighty-seven  miles  distant,  as  already  stated, 
on  the  Northwestern  road. 

The  expedition  travelled  in  three  light  carriages, 
such  as  are  commonly  called  wagons,  all  tight  and 
sound,  freshly  washed,  oiled,  and  rubbed,  and  glit- 


18  THE   BLACKWATER   CHRONICLE. 

tering  in  the  sun  "  like  images  :"  each  wagon  drawn 
by  a  vigorous  trotter  in  fine  condition,  and  able  on 
a  good  road  easily  to  make  such  time  as  would  have 
satisfied  Dr.  Johnson,  even  though  his  philosophy 
of  happiness  should  have  required  a  greater  speed 
than  ten  miles  an  hour.  We  were  five  in  all :  the 
sixth  didn't  go,  that  gentleman  having  failed  us  by 
the  way,  owing  to  some  anxieties  he  entertained 
about  trusting  himself  so  high  up  on  the  continent. 
But  no  matter;  we  were  yet  five.  There  was  — 

Mr.  Peter  Botecote,  generally  called  Butcut  by 
his  familiars  —  sometimes  But; 

Mr.  Guy  Philips,  the  Master  of  the  priory  of  St. 
Philips  :  hence  familiarly  the  master,  sometimes  the 
Prior,  and  occasionally  "  the  county  Guy ;" 

Triptolemus  Todd,  Esq.,  our  Murad  the  Unlucky, 
and  sometimes  Trip ; 

Doctor  Adolphus  Blandy,  physician  to  the  expe 
dition  :  Galen  he  was  called  for  short ; 

And  the  Signor  Andante  Strozzi,  our  artist,  also 
amateur  musician. 

Mr.  Perry  Winkle,  jocosely  called  by  his  friends, 
in  one  syllable,  Perry  winkle,  is  the  name  of  the 
gentleman  who  didn't  go- — which  we  mention 
here  that  he  may  not  altogether  escape  immor 
tality —  and  would  also  give  his  likeness,  were  it 
not  for  a  well-founded  apprehension  that  it  might 
too  much  divert  the  attention  of  the  reader  from 
our  narrative. 


GETTING   TJNDEK    WAY.  19 

The  array,  it  will  be  perceived  from  the  naming, 
is  somewhat  imposing,  and  gives  promise  of  some 
thing  to  be  done  and  said  out  of  the  common. 
Truly,  this  record  of  the  performance  need  not  fall 
short  of  the  promise,  if  the  ambitious  chronicler 
can  succeed,  by  any  happy  art,  in  anything  like  a 
history  that  shall  be  a  just  impress  —  an  impress 
of  the  body  and  soul  —  of  the  expedition.  Thucyd- 
ides  hit  it,  in  his  narrative  of  The  Sailing  for 
Sicily r,  also  in  The  Landing  of  Alcibiades  at 
Athens  j  Livy,  in  that  part  of  his  twenty -first  book 
which  we  've  got,  and  no  doubt  in  the  remainder 
of  it,  if  we  could  only  find  it ;  Segur,  in  the  retreat 
from  Moscow ;  Macaulay,  in  the  landing  of  the 
prince  of  Orange,  and  the  march  on  London ; 
Voltaire's  Charles  the  Twelfth,  too,  ought  not  to  be 
passed  over  in  this  enumeration ;  nor  yet  Sallust's 
little  narrative  of  Catiline.  Let  us  add  another  to 
the  illustrious  roll,  by  writing  the  Blackwater  Nar 
rative  up  to  the  immortal  standard. 

Deserted,  then,  by  Mr.  Perrywinkle,  we  were 
yet  five  in  number ;  all  good  men  and  true,  and 
of  unusually  diversified  character  and  appearance  : 
none  of  us  to  be  called  old  in  years,  but  old  enough 
in  the  ups  and  downs,  and  ins  and  outs  of  this  world, 
having  made  "many  hair-breadth  'scapes  by  flood 
and  field,"  by  town  and  country,  by  man  and  wo 
man  also,  in  our  time — even  the  more  youthful 
Triptolemus,  who  has  killed  in  his  time  several 


20  THE    BLACKWATEK    CHRONICLE. 

good  pointers  in  shooting  partridges,  and  some  few 
years  ago  shot  himself  in  the  right  knee  —  which 
will  account  for  his  lameness  in  these  pages.  With 
out  mincing  matters  too  much,  we  will  speak  it  out 
freely,  that  we  were  all  men  of  some  mark  and 
likelihood,  as  men  go ;  and  although  the  world 
might  not  judge  us  (which  it  is  our  opinion  it 
wTould  make  a  great  mistake  in  not  doing)  as  "  fit 
to  stand  by  Csesar  in  a  tented  field,"  there  can  be 
no  doubt  that  it  would  hold  us  all,  if  it  had  the 
honor  of  our  acquaintance,  as  fit  to  sit  by  that 
"  foremost  man  of  all  the  world,"  at  a  dinner  or  a 
supper,  at  any  rate. 

We  will  take  the  liberty  of  saying,  however, 
with  great  modesty,  and  begging  pardon  of  every 
body,  and  especially  of  the  old  Romans,  that  if 
"  the  mightiest  Julius"  had  been  along  with  us 
upon  this  expedition,  he  would  have  found  the 
passage  into  the  country  of  the  Blackwater  a  far 
more  fatiguing  enterprise  than  any  of  his  incur 
sions  into  the  countries  of  the  Allobrogi,  or  Nervii, 
or  Acquitanii,  or  Boii,  or  any  other  of  those  out 
siders,  against  whom  the  elegant  and  captivating 
greatest  Roman  marched. 

It  will  not  be  amiss  here  to  mention,  that  we 
travelled  upon  our  inroad  very  much  after  the 
fashion  in  which  Csesar  went  upon  his.  Grave 
History  has  not  thought  it  beneath  her  dignity  to 
record  how  the  great  master  of  the  Roman  world 


GETTING   UNDER   WAT.  21 

went  upon  his  depredations ;  and  it  is  one  of  her 
condescensions  for  which  we  are  very  much  obliged 
to  her.  It  is  therefore,  we  know,  among  other  things 
of  this  elegant  and  all-accomplished  subverter  of  the 
republic  and  founder  of  the  fourth  and  last  univer 
sal  empire,  that  he  rode  in  a  carriage  upon  his 
forays.  This  carriage  was  called  a  rkeda,  "  a  sort 
of  gig  or  curricle,"  says  a  recent  very  distinguished 
authority,  Mr.  De  Quincey,  "  a  four-wheeled  car 
riage,  and  adapted  to  the  conveyance  of  about  half 
a  ton."  This,  the  reader  will  perceive,  is  in  and 
about  our  modern  wagon ;  and  we  have  no  doubt, 
if  the  matter  were  fairly  investigated,  it  would  be 
ascertained  that  the  rheda  of  the  Roman  is  the 
prototype  of  the  wagon  of  the  American  :  it  ?s  a 
four-runner  at  any  rate.  Julius  used  this  carriage, 
we  are  informed,  because  it  enabled  him  to  take 
with  him  the  amount  of  equipment  that  was  essen 
tial  to  his  elegant  and  patrician  habits :  his  various 
mantles — for  instance,  the  one  he  overcame  the 
Eervii  in,  which  he  preserved  and  wore  many 
years  after  in  the  city,  and  was  the  same  in  which 
the  envious  Casca  made  the  rent,  that  Shakspere 
and  Casca  between  them  have  made  so  immortal ; 
his  bandboxes,  in  which  he  kept  the  wreaths  he 
wore  around  his  head,  as  our  ladies  do  now  on 
festival  occasions  —  the  ivy,  the  laurel,  the  oak 
wreaths,  and  what  others  I  know  not ;  his  bathing 
apparatus,  brushes,  soaps,  &c. ;  his  unguents  and 


22  THE    BLACKWATEK    CHRONICLE. 

perfumes,  with  the  various  ancient  Roman  balms 
for  the  cure  of  baldness.  The  rheda  was  adjusted 
to  the  convenient  transportation  of  these  essentials 
of  an  elegant  Roman  gentleman  of  that  day :  and 
so  the  wagon  to  the  wants  of  the  daintiest  gentle 
man  of  this. 

It  will  be  perceived,  therefore,  that  our  expedi 
tion  has  many  points  of  resemblance  to  those  so 
famous  of  the  splendid  Roman.  It  was  depredatory 
in  the  first  place.  It  combined,  in  the  second,  about 
an  equal  commingling  of  the  luxurious  and  the  rough- 
and-tumble.  Thirdly  :  considering  that  it  took  the 
field  about  nineteen  centuries  later  than  Caesar's, 
there  is  a  very  remarkable  resemblance  between 
the  vehicles  used  in  both.  Fourthly  :  in  one  single 
engagement,  fought  on  the  Blackwater,  and  which 
lasted  only  about  two  hours,  no  less  than  four  hun 
dred  and  ninety  some  odd  of  the  enemy  were  slain, 
and  what  is  more,  fully  a  hundred  of  them  eaten 
next  thing  to  alive :  and  this,  we  take  it,  will  com 
pare  with  anything  done  in  Gaul.  Lastly  :  the  wild 
tribes  that  infested  the  Alleganies,  fled  before  our 
arms ;  many  a  flying  army  of  deer  owed  their  lives 
to  the  mercy  of  the  invaders ;  the  badgers  and  the 
otters  —  a  feeble  people,  yet  sagacious  and  wary  — 
we  laid  ourselves  out  to  take  by  policy,  that  is  en 
trap  them,  as  Caesar  did  the  like  people  of  Gaul ; 
and  had  not  the  fierce  panthers,  the  rude  bears, 
the  prowling  wolves,  and  the  other  warlike  inhab- 


GETTING   UNDER   WAY.  23 

itants  of  these  untamed  forests,  betaken  themselves 
to  their  fastnesses,  and  there  remained  with  a  savage 
fortitude  that  defied  hunger  all  the  time  we  were 
out,  we  should  have  vanquished  them  with  as  great 
slaughter  as  befell  the  Boii,  and  Nervii,  the  Hel 
vetians,  the  Acquitanii,  Yercingetorix,  Orgetorix, 
Dumnorix,  Benorix,  and  all  the  other  Orixes,  at  the 
hands  of  Julius — roasted  and  devoured  some  of 
them  too,  next  thing  to  alive. 

But  enough.  The  reader  is,  no  doubt,  by  this 
time,  impressed  with  a  due  sense  of  the  dignity  of 
our  undertaking.  Let  us  not  then  any  longer  dally 
with  our  narrative,  but  hasten  on  to  the  field  of  our 
renown. 


24  TIIE   BLACKWATER    CHRONICLE. 


CHAPTEE   III. 

IN    WHICH    THE   EXPEDITION    DANCES   A   HOENPIPE    ON 
THE   TOP    OF   A   MOUNTAIN. 

AFTER  an  early  breakfast  at  about  sunrise,  we 
left  the  hotel  in  Winchester  on  the  morning  of  the 
1st  of  June  ;  and  taking  out  the  Northwestern  road, 
we  went  on  our  way  rejoicing.  Passing  through 
the  North  mountain,  five  miles  out,  where  it  breaks 
down  almost  on  a  level  with  the  valley  we  had  just 
left,  we  entered  fairly  into  the  mountain  region  — 
whence  it  is  nothing  but  chain  after  chain,  until 
you  cross  over  the  broad  belt  to  the  great,  spreading, 
western,  shining  plain,  watered  by  the  Mississippi 
and  its  tributaries. 

For  several  hours  we  travelled  along  without 
stint  or  stay,  filled  with  the  bliss  of  this  first  morn 
ing  of  June.  Our  horses  tread  the  ground  lightly, 
vigorous  and  nimble-footed,  no  touch  of  weariness 
yet  upon  them ;  and  our  swift  wheels  turn  with 
scarce-perceptible  sound  —  a  mere  low  hum  along 
the  slaty  road.  Delicious  is  the  summer's  day,  de 
licious  to  both  soul  and  sense  !  No  poet's  dream  of 
June  was  ever  so  enchanting.  It  has  rained  over 


THE   EXPEDITION    DANCES    A   HOKNPIPE.  25 

night,  and  fresh  and  fragrant  everywhere  is  the 
morning.  The  forest-leaves  are  all  washed  clean  as 
the  waters  of  heaven  can  make  them,  and  the  gras 
ses  are  more  delicately  green  in  their  renewal.  The 
rain-drops,  not  yet  dried  up,  sparkle  all  over  the 
forest,  in  the  glittering  sunshine,  like  beads  of  pearl. 
All  nature,  animate  and  inanimate  —  on  four  legs, 
two,  or  none — 'feels  the  heavenly  influence  of  the 
hour.  The  woods  are  vocal  with  the  rapturous  voice 
of  birds.  The  wild-flowers  —  the  wild-rose  and  the 
wood-violet,  the  gorgeous  laurel,  and  the  sweet  elder- 
bloom — in  all  their  freshened  glory,  give  their  deli 
cate  perfumes  to  the  liberal  air,  and  their  hues  of 
heaven  to  the  enraptured  sight.  The  streams,  some 
times  crossing  our  path,  and  sometimes  flowing  on 
by  our  side — seeming  to  go  with  us  whichever  way 
we  go — flowing  on  adown  the  dell  or  by  the  rifted 
rock,  and  all  embowered  with  shrubs  and  tangled 
vines :  these  sing  their  sweet  songs  tuneful  to  the 
ear,  until  at  length,  ecstasy  —  born  of  the  murmur 
ing  waters,  the  balm  of  the  air,  the  glory  of  the 
wild-flowers,  the  warble  of  the  birds,  and  the  smooth 
velocity  of  your  rheda — enters  into  the  heart,  and 
pervades  your  countenance  with  a  radiance  that  is 
almost  divine. 

Thus  full  of  all  joy  that  is  born  of  summer  and 
the  mountains,  we  speed  on  our  way — to  happiness 
and  to  Winston !  On  we  drive,  over  the  smooth 
road,  through  gorge,  and  dell,  and  valley,  when  by- 

2 


26  THE    BLACKWATER    CHRONICLE. 

and-by  we  ascend  a  mountain,  winding  up  its  side 
like  the  track  of  a  snake,  until  we  reach  the  top. 
Here  a  magnificent  panorama  of  distant-blending 
valleys  and  mountains  piled  on  mountains,  breaks 
suddenly  on  our  view ;  and,  seized  with  a  shouting 
spirit  of  exultation — 

"  We  call  a  halt,  and  make  a  stand, 
And  cry,  'St.  George  for  merry  England  !'" — 

meaning  thereby  this  all-hailed  land  of  ours,  which 
the  patriotic  reader  will  of  course  understand. 

The  day  is  now  some  four  hours  old  by  the  shad 
ow  ;  and  before  yet  the  last  echoes  of  our  voices 
have  died  away  in  the  hills  and  rocks  around,  a 
wayfarer,  all  in  minstrel  array  bedight,  walked  in 
wearily  among  us.  He  called  a  halt,  and  made  a 
stand,  too,  on  the  mountain's  brow.  This  was  a  wan 
dering  Italian,  with  his  hand-organ  strapped  to  his 
back,  who  had  ascended  from  the  other  side ;  and 
it  was  not  long  before  he  had  unburdened  himself 
of  his  bread-winner,  and  given  us  a  specimen  of 
what  his  art  could  do.  His  instrument  was  a  very 
good  one,  and  our  imaginations  had  by  this  time 
thrown  around  him  an  air  of  romance  and  poetry. 
Had  we  encountered  him  in  the  streets  of  a  city,  he 
would  have  been  nothing  more  than  an  ordinary 
strolling  minstrel  to  us ;  but  here,  in  the  forest,  his 
music  struck  upon  the  ear  pleasantly  enough,  and 
brought  to  its  aid  much  poetic  association.  It  sound- 


THE   EXPEDITION   DANCES    A   HORNPIPE.  27 

ed  of  the  days  when  the  old  harper  begged  his  bread 
from  door  to  door :  and  the  hand-organ  is  already 
half-elevated  into  the  harp,  and  he  who  turns  it  has 
a  soul  alive  to  poetry  and  song.  Happy  power  of 
illusion !  it  is  better  than  gold  in  gilding  this  bare 
life  —  this  life  so  bare  and  hard  to  the  pure  reason, 
so  full  of  charm  to  the  imagination ! 

Thus  idealizing  the  hand-organ  and  the  very  good- 
looking,  rather  handsome  man,  who  turned  it,  we 
now  left  our  wagons  ;  and,  out  in  the  road,  and  face 
to  face,  we  hold  friendly  parley  with  the  stranger. 
The  wandering  minstrel  is  a  Neapolitan ;  and  the 
Signor  Strozzi,  our  artist,  glad  of  a  chance  to  refresh 
himself  with  a  little  Italian,  immediately  enlarges 
upon  the  renowned  city — its  towers  and  palaces, 
the  bay,  the  towns  around,  and  the  neighboring  vol 
cano  lurid  in  the  heavens.  Not  unmindful  of  his 
country,  there  is  moisture  in  the  eye  of  the  min 
strel,  and  something  very  like  a  tear  is  on  his  cheek. 
There  is  something  sympathetic  in  all  show  of  feel 
ing  ;  and  when  the  prior  of  St.  Philips  repeated  in 
feeling  tones  the  song  of  the  harper  in  Rokeby — 

""Wo  came  with  war,  and  want  with  wo, 
And  it  was  mine  to  undergo 
Each  outrage  of  the  rebel  foe : 

Can  aught  atone 
My  fields  laid  waste,  my  cot  laid  low? 

My  harp  alone ! 

"Ambition's  dreams  I've  seen  depart, 
Have  rued  of  penury  the  smart, 


28  THE   BLACKWATER   CHRONICLE. 

Have  felt  of  love  the  venomed  dart, 

When  hope  was  flown ; 
Yet  rests  one  solace  to  my  heart  — 

My  harp  alone ! 

"Then  o'er  mountain,  moor,  and  hill, 
My  faithful  harp,  I'll  bear  thee  still, 
And  when  this  life  of  want  and  ill 

Is  well  nigh  gone, 
Thy  strings  mine  elegy  shall  thrill, 

My  harp  alone !"  — 

when  the  feeling  prior,  here  on  the  mountain's  brow, 
crooned  forth  these  verses — the  ruined  exile  stand 
ing  tired  before  him,  with  his  arm  thrown  over  his 
bread-winner — let  the  susceptibility  to  emotion  be 
here  recorded  of  the  expedition,  which  made  us 
draw  forth  our  purses  and  give  to  this  rude  votary 
of  the  "joyous  science"  more  silver  and  gold  than 
he  had  gathered  in  a  week  in  all  his  roaming.  We 
were  as  good  as  two  or  three  villages  to  him. 

Having,  however,  some  latent,  half  shame-prompt 
ed  idea  that  we  might  be  indulging  a  little  too  much 
in  a  sentimental  luxury,  incompatible  with  the  man 
ly  and  somewhat  rough.  Runic  character  of  our  en 
terprise,  we  daffed  aside  these  softer  emotions,  and 
struck  off  into  a  lighter  and  gayer  strain,  more  in 
keeping  with  the  actual  state  of  the  case  around  us. 
And  so  the  Neapolitan,  Jacomo,  assumed  once  more 
his  usual  professional  bearing,  and  struck  his  lyre 
to  the  strains  that  nightly  over  the  earth  swell  the 
hearts  of  those  who  worship  at  the  feet  of  Terp 
sichore —  that  is,  he  played  us  some  waltzes  and 


THE   EXPEDITION    DANCES   A    HOKNPIPE.  29 

polkas.  And  presently  we  all  began  to  dance — the 
little  figures  in  the  glass  case  in  front  of  the  organ, 
and  we  on  the  slaty  summit  of  the  mountain-road. 


Away  we  go,  in  fine  accord  with  the  minstrelsey  — 
now  waltzing  together  in  bold  sweeps  around  the 
brow  of  the  mountain  ;  and  now,  with  arms  akimbo, 
dancing  a  polka,  in  many  mazy  gyrations,  after  the 
most  approved  manner  of  executing  that  dance,  as 
it  was  first  exhibited  by  the  ballet-people  at  our 
theatres,  before  yet  it  became  fashionable  in  high 
life.  The  whole  aifair  we  concluded  with  Fisher's 
hornpipe,  through  which  we  capered  with  such  sur 
prising  agility  as  was  never  before  or  since  made 
manifest  on  the  top  of  any  mountain  in  the  United 


30  THE   BLACKWATER    CHRONICLE. 

States — or,  probably,  at  the  bottom  of  any  one 
either.  As  we  danced,  we  all  sang,  too,  in  accom 
paniment  with  the  strains,  thus  doubly  taxing  our 
powers.  The  dust  flew,  and  rose  into  the  heavens ; 
Jacomo's  black  eye  sparkled  as  he  swiftly  turned 
his  crank.  The  scene  was  as  intense  as  the  race 
down  the  quarter  stretch  between  Eclipse  and  Hen 
ry,  when  North  and  South  hung  suspended  on  the 
strife.  We  swam  the  very  air  agile  and  swift-bound 
ing —  some  of  us  —  as  the  antelope;  others  with  a 
strained,  incongruous  jerking  and  ponderous  agil 
ity,  very  much  like  what  might  be  supposed  of  a 
buffalo  in  a  hornpipe.  Even  the  lame  leg  of  Murad 
the  Unlucky  might  be  caught  a  glimpse  of,  every 
now  and  then,  flying  about  in  the  midst  of  the  hurly- 
burly  as  something  independent  of  anybody  pres 
ent:  in  our  American  vernacular,  it  seemed  to  be 
going  it  on  its  own  hook.  The  horses  drew  up 
around  us  with  their  wagons,  and,  with  ears  bent 
forward,  and  fascinated  gaze,  looked  on  in  pleased 
wonderment.  Fisher's  hornpipe  is  perhaps  one  of 
the  fastest  tunes  now  known  in  all  Christendom  ; 
and  yet,  fast  as  we  danced  it,  we  sang  it.  It  was 
thus  the  wild  descant  rang  through  the  forest: — 

"  Did  you  ever  see  the  devil, 
With  his  iron  wooden  shovel, 
A  scratching  up  the  gravel, 
With  his  nightcap  on  ? 


THE  EXPEDITION  DANCES  A  HORNPIPE.      31 

"  No,  I  never  saw  the  devil, 
With  his  iron  wooden  shovel, 
A  scratching  up  the  gravel, 
With  his  nightcap  on." 

[Repeated  twice. ,] 

"  Did  you  ever,  ever,  ever, 
Ever,  ever,  ever,  ever, 
Ever,  ever,  ever,  ever, 
Catch  a  whale  by  the  tail  ? 

"  No,  I  never,  never,  never, 
Never,  never,  never,  never, 
Never,  never,  never,  never, 
Caught  a  whale  by  the  tail." 

[Repeated  twice.] 

The  echoes  around  take  up  our  voices  at  every 
pause  for  breath  ;  the  mountains,  as  in  the  old 
Bible  times,  cry  aloud  for  joy  ;  and  ever  see  the 
devil,  and  nightcap  on,  and  whale  ~by  the  tail, 
in  the  cadence  of  the  hornpipe,  are  repeated  far 
and  near,  until  at  length  the  uproar  dies  away — in 
some  far  remote  dell,  a  last  faint,  feeble  sound  of 
whale  . .  .  tail,  lingering  for  a  moment  on  the  ear, 
and  all  is  hushed :  the  echoes  have  gone  to  sleep 
again,  and  nothing  breaks  upon  the  stillness  of  the 
mountains,  save  the  lazy  sound  of  the  summer 
wind,  that  is  itself  almost  silence. 

Somewhat  fagged  and  out  of  breath,  we  now 
once  more  took  to  our  wagons,  the  horses  by  this 
time  well  rested ;  and  leaving  the  Neapolitan,  dis 
consolate  Jacomo,  standing  irresolute  on  the  moun 
tain's  brow,  we  swept  down  the  windings  of  the 


32  THE    BLACKWATEK    CHRONICLE. 

highway,  at  the  rate  of  some  twelve  miles  to  the 
hour  —  Jacomo  still  standing  motionless  as  a  pic 
ture,  as  we  entered  a  wild  defile  of  the  forest,  and 
for  ever  lost  him  to  the  sight.  Winding  our  way 
over  a  broken  range  of  picturesque  hills,  we  at 
length  entered  a  ravine,  down  which  a  clear,  spark 
ling  stream  hunts  its  course  to  a  neighboring  river. 
Here  are  some  very  remarkable  cliffs  of  a  pure 
white  sandstone,  which  is  in  some  demand  among  the 
nicer  housekeepers  of  Winchester  and  Romney  for 
scouring  purposes.  Into  the  base  of  one  of  these 
cliffs,  a  large  excavation  has  been  made,  where  the 
rock  is  so  purely  white,  that  it  suggests  to  you  the 
idea  of  a  quarry  of  the  finest  loaf-sugar.  Passing 
these  loaf-sugar  cliffs,  we  drove  on  leisurely  down 
the  cool  ravine,  by  the  banks  and  through  the  fords 
of  the  silvery  stream,  when  presently  we  emerged 
from  the  deep  shadows  of  some  thickly-clustered 
hemlocks  and  pines  into  the  light  of  day,  and 
found  ourselves  before  the  tavern  door  of  Mr. 
Charles  Blue.  Here  we  stopped  to  feed  and  rest 
our  horses  for  some  two  or  three  hours — taking 
care,  in  the  meantime,  to  regale  ourselves  with  such 
delicacies  of  fried  chickens,  broiled  ham  and  eggs, 
and  fresh  butter  and  milk,  as  the  house  afforded  us. 
About  two  o'clock  —  the  day  being  still  pleasant, 
and  without  any  burdensome  heat  —  we  took  to  the 
road  again ;  and  after  some  two  hours' travel,  through 
the  green  valleys  and  over  other  mountains,  we  at 


THE   EXPEDITION   DANCES    A   HORNPIPE.  33 

length  came  in  sight  of  the  little  town  of  Romney, 
beautifully  situated  upon  a  sloping  plateau  of  land 
that  lies  back  of  the  high  banks  and  bluffs  of  the 
South  Branch ;  the  river  here  flowing  along  in  all 
its  winding  lines  of  beauty  —  on  through  rich  bot 
toms  and  bold  over-hanging  mountains,  to  its  junc 
tion  with  the  Potomac. 

Somewhere  about  four  o'clock  —  after  descending 
a  long  and  beautiful  sweep  of  road,  grand  enough 
in  all  its  features  to  be  the  avenue  to  some  lordly 
city  —  we  drove  up  to  the  door  of  the  village  inn 
(the  old  Virginia  designation  is  ordinary),  situated 
pleasantly  on  the  main  street  of  Romney,  and  kept 
by  Mr.  Armstrong,  formerly  a  member  of  Congress 
from  this  district,  but  who  has  for  some  years  past 
chosen  the  better  part — shaken  the  dust  of  the  cap- 
itol  from  his  feet,  and  commanded  the  respect  and 
good  will  of  all  considerate  people  who  travel  this 
way,  by  the  manner  in  which  he  discharges  his  pres 
ent  representative  duty  to  the  public.  In  this  com 
fortable  inn,  we  took  our  ease  for  the  rest  of  the 
day,  having  accomplished  just  forty-four  miles  over 
those  mountains,  since  first  we  drew  rein  in  the 
morning. 

How  the  Signor  Strozzi  was  taken  by  some  of 
the  good  people  of  Romney  for  an  Italian  revolu 
tionist —  how  Doctor  Blandy  built  a  very  remark 
able  castle  in  the  air,  that  from  a  neighboring 
eminence  commanded  the  South  Branch  valley  — 
2* 


34:  THE    BLACKWATEK   CHRONICLE. 

liow  Mr.  Butcut  set  the  porch  in  a  roar,  at  a  story 
he  told  of  some  cockneys  who  came  over  to  New 
York  to  hunt  bears  about  that  city ;  -how  the 
Prior  discoursed  eloquently  on  Lucerne  grass  and 
the  ancients  ;  how  Triptolemus,  when  the  levee  we 
held  on  the  porch  was  at  the  highest,  called  every 
body  by  somebody  else's  name ;  how  we  passed 
altogether  a  very  cheerful  and  gay  evening  of  it, 
among  the  social  citizens  of  Eomney,  who  did  us 
the  honor  to  make  our  acquaintance  —  we  will  not 
detain  the  reader  by  setting  forth  in  full  in  these 
pages,  but  here  end  this  chapter,  and  with  it  the 
narrative  of  the  evening. 


THE    COCKNEYS    EXPLAINED.  35 


OHAPTEE   IV. 

THE    COCKNEYS    EXPLAINED    BY   THE   PRIOR   OF  ST.  PHIL 
IPS,    FKOM   THE    TOP    OF    THE   ALLEGANY. 

WHAT  time  the  skylark  plumed  his  wing,  the  ex 
pedition  awoke  from  its  slumbers,  and  betimes  arose; 
what  time  the  sun  peeped  into  the  casements  of  the 
village  hostel,  it  sat  triumphant  over  a  routed  break 
fast-table,  and,  like  Alexander,  sighed  that  it  had 
no  more  to  conquer.  In  this  condition,  he  of  Mace- 
don  took  to  drink  —  but  we  to  our  wagons,  with  a 
good-by  to  pleasant  Komney. 

The  morning  was  delightfully  bracing.  Whether 
it  was  the  mountain-air,  or  the  mountain-oats,  that 
inspired  them,  our  horses  carried  themselves  as 
proud  as  reindeers,  and  went  down  the  main  street 
of  Romney  with  a  free  swing,  fully  up  to  the  re 
quirements  of  the  Dr.  Johnson  philosophy  in  this 
matter.  As  we  crossed  the  high  plain  to  the  bluffs 
of  the  river,  the  scenery  of  the  South-Branch  valley 
was  just  developing  into  expression  —  the  mountain 
in  bold  masses,  the  winding  river  with  its  mists,  the 
rich  bottoms  striped  with  cornfields,  the  long  range 
of  brown  cliffs  in  the  distance,  and  in  the  foreground 


36  THE    BLACKWATER    CHRONICLE. 

the  high  plain  on  which  sat  the  picturesque  town : 
all  in  striking  contrasts  of  light  and  shade  ;  the  dark 
shadows  of  the  mountains,  and  the  golden  mists  of 
the  river ;  the  spangled  dewdrops  on  the  meadows, 
and  the  funeral  drapery  of  the  pine-forests  ;  Apollo, 
from  his  chariot  of  the  sun,  elimning  some  new  glory 
of  the  picture,  as  he  drove  on  up  the  steeps  of  the 
skies. 

This  glimpse  of  the  sunrise-picture  was  all  we 
saw,  for  it  is  but  a  mile  from  the  town  to  the  bluffs 
of  the  river,  and  these  we  have  already  gained.  We 
now  descended  from  the  table-land,  and  crossed  the 
South  Branch  by  a  good  bridge.  With  the  river  on 
one  side  and  the  overhanging  mountain  on  the  other, 
we  drove  on  for  a  mile  or  so ;  when  we  turned  off, 
and  passed  through  the  mountain  on  almost  a  dead- 
level  road,  winding  along  the  side  of  a  stream  that 
here  makes  its  way  through  a  deep  cleft  to  the  river. 
For  some  fifteen  miles  the  road  is  a  beautiful  one  — 
smooth,  and  of  easy  grade  in  its  gradual  rise  toward 
the  Alleganies ;  now  hugging  the  hills,  now  follow 
ing  the  bends  of  the  streams,  now  through  valleys 
spotted  with  farmhouses  and  green  with  luxuriant 
grass.  At  length  we  came  to  the  Knobley,  which 
we  ascended,  passing  through  a  hamlet  scattered 
carelessly  along  the  cultivated  slopes  of  the  mount 
ain.  This  mountain  presents  a  very  remarkable  out 
line,  being  a  succession  of  high  knobs  or  peaks  with 
intervening  low  depressions,  giving  it  the  appear- 


THE    COCKNEYS    EXPLAINED.  3T 

ance  of  an  indented  castle-wall.  Through  one  of 
these  depressions  we  crossed,  and  descended  by  easy 
traverses  to  the  other  side.  For  a  mile  or  so  we 
wound  our  way  through  the  defiles  of  a  broken 
range  of  hills,  and  emerged  at  length  into  a  narrow 
and  beautifully-picturesque  valley — the  Allegany 
piled  up  in  grand  masses  on  one  side,  and  the  road 
running  for  some  miles  along  the  banks  of  a  clear, 
rapid  stream,  known  hereabouts  as  New  creek  — 
just  such  a  stream,  so  wild  and  cool,  as  the  imagi 
nation  would  fill  with  trout  a  foot  and  a  quarter 
long,  and  some  four  inches  deep  behind  the  shoul 
ders. 

By  the  side  of  the  sparkling  creek,  with  (no  doubt) 
trout  to  be  had  for  the  casting  of  a  fly,  or  the  im 
paling  of  a  worm,  we  found  a  large  and  comfortable 
brick  house,  where  a  Mr.  Reese  keeps  an  inn  highly 
spoken  of  in  these  parts  for  its  excellent  accommo 
dations.  At  the  base  of  the  Allegany  stands  invi 
tingly  the  mountain-embowered  inn.  In  front  of 
this  is  the  clear,  cool,  wild,  dancing  stream  ;  and  up 
beyond  this  again,  rises  with  bold  ascent,  almost  at 
right-angles  to  the  water,  a  richly-wooded  spur  of 
the  Allegany,  colored  with  all-blended  hues  of  green, 
from  the  pale  tea-color  of  the  mountain-ash,  to  the 
dark,  grand,  gloom  green,  almost  invisible  green, 
of  the  clustered  fir-trees  and  hemlocks  —  these  the 
nobler  pines  that  more  particularly  distinguish  the 
forests  of  the  Allegany  ranges. 


38  THE    BLACKWATER    CHKONICLE. 

From  Reese's  house,  at  the  base,  it  is  seven  miles 
to  the  top  of  the  Allegany  —  something  of  an  Olym 
pus  to  the  warts  behind  us.  Mindful  of  our  horses, 
we  gird  up  our  loins  for  the  encounter,  and  take  to 
the  heaven-kissing  hill  afoot.  Half-way  up  there  is 
a  fountain  of  pure  spring- water  caught  in  a  rude 
trough  by  the  roadside  ;  and  men  and  horses  gather 
around,  and  revel  in  the  mountain  hippocrene.  The 
lookout  from  here  is  already  grand.  Far  and  wide 
you  behold  the  land  we  have  travelled.  On  we  go 
again,  up  and  up,  still  up ;  and  the  air  you  breathe 
is  freer,  and  the  scene  wilder  and  yet  more  widely 
revealed  at  every  turn  of  the  road,  rounding  each 
rocky  promontory  that  juts  the  mountain-side. 

In  something  more  than  two  hours  we  reached 
the  toll-gate,  situated  near  the  summit  of  the  ridge,. 
and  commanding  a  prospect  of  all  the  land  lying 
abroad  to  the  eastward.  This  is  one  of  the  grandest 
and  most  diversified  mountain-scenes  in  the  whole 
range  of  our  country :  mountains  piled  on  mount 
ains  everywhere,  of  every  variety  of  size  and  shape, 
with  all  their  valleys,  glens,  gorges,  dells,  and  nar 
row  defiles  • — all  yet  varied  by  the  changing  light 
and  shade  that  falls  upon  them  from  the  heavens  — 
as  the  heavens  are  ablaze  with  sunshine,  or  swept 
by  passing  summer-clouds. 

Altogether  it  is  such  a  scene  as  seldom  meets  the 
eye.  At  once  its  glory  has  entered  into  the  heart 
and  fired  the  imagination,  and  we  are  a  thousand 


THE    COCKNEYS   EXPLAINED. 


39 


times  over  repaid  for  the  long,  toilsome  ascent  that 
has  given  it  to  us.  To  view  it  aright,  it  should  be 
seen  under  all  changing  aspects  :  at  the  dawn  and 
the  sunrise  ;  under  the  earlier  and  the  later  shadows 
of  the  morning ;  when  the  midday  blaze  has  made 
it  all  dreamy  as  an  ocean  unmoved  ;  as  the  shadows 
lengthen  upon  it  in  the  evening;  as  the  gloom  of 
the  twilight  gathers  over  it.  To  see  it  in  its  great 
est  sublimity,  you  should  be  here  when,  bare  of  leaf, 
and  all  rugged  in  its  disclosure,  it  is  terrible  with 
the  howling  storms  of  winter  — storms  sweeping 
dreadfully  both  the  heavens  and  the  earth ! 

Yet,  even  in  a  half-hour's  glance,  much  will  be 
written  upon  the  mind  that  can  never  be  effaced ; 
and  this  "dim  spot,  that  men  call  earth,"  will  be 
ever  after  greatly  dignified  to  your  appreciation.  A 
scene  thus  ennobling,  let  us  not  pass  away  from  it 
too  lightly.  Let  us  portray  it,  even  though  it  be 
with  such  indistinct  limning  as  the  few  moments  we 
loitered  at  the  toll  gate  will  enable. 

You  are  at  such  height  here  at  the  gate,  that  as 
you  stand  looking  eastward,  there  is  nothing  to 
bound  your  vision  but  your  natural  horizon.  You 
are  above  the  whole  scene  ;  and  looking  over  it,  you 
may  be  said  to  look  down  over  it.  You  command 
it  all,  to  the  extent  of  the  power  of  the  eye.  Far 
below  you,  some  thousands  of  feet,  is  a  wood-em 
bosomed  dell,  with  an  open  farm  every  here  and 
there  spotted  along  it,  looking  at  this  distance  like 


40  THE    BLACKWATER    CHRONICLE. 

patches  of  wild  meadow  and  glade  in  the  midst  of 
the  vast  forest  around.  Immediately  beyond  rises 
a  bold  and  rugged  mountain,  whose  craggy  top  is 
indented  like  the  battlements  of  a  castle,  and  whose 
sides  sweep  down,  dark  with  firs  and  hemlocks,  and 
every  variety  of  pines,  to  the  edge  of  the  deep  val 
ley.  Looking  to  the  right,  the  mountains  are  bro 
ken  and  irregular,  as  if  they  had  been  tossed  and 
torn  to  pieces  by  some  mighty  upheaving  of  the 
earth,  and  had  thus  fallen  scattered  about  in  con 
fused,  giant  masses:  some  elegant  and  majestic  as 
the  "  star'y-pointed  pyramid ;"  some  grand  and 
massive  as  the  "  proud  bulwark  on  the  steep ;"  oth 
ers  of  huge,  misshapen  bulk — the  Calibans  of  the 
wild ;  and  others,  again,  so  grotesque  of  form,  that 
they  seem  to  have  been  moulded  by  the  very  genius 
of  Whim — the  Merry- Andrews  of  the  Alleganies: 
and  all  yet  beautiful  and  soft  to  the  eye,  with  the 
softening  hues  of  summer — these  summer  hues  pro 
ducing  the  same  effect  here  that  time  has  wrought 
upon  the  rugged  feudal  castle,  as  so  beautifully  de 
scribed  in  the  verse  of  Mason : — 

"Time 

Has  moulded  into  beauty  many  a  tower, 
Which,  when  it  frowned  with  all  its  battlements, 
Was  only  terrible" 

On  the  left  the  scene  is  in  strong  contrast  with 
the  grand  and  grotesque  mountains  we  have  just 
described.  Here,  along  the  steeps  of  the  Allegany, 


THE   COCKNEYS    EXPLAINED.  41 

*  ' 

you  catch  picturesque  glimpses  of  the  winding  high 
way —  and,  again,  you  see  it  boldly  emerging  from 
the  woods  at  the  base  of  the  mountain,  and  sweep 
ing  on  through  the  open  vale,  and  by  the  banks  of 
the  silvery  stream,  down  past  the  embowered  house 
and  cultivated  lands  of  Reese  —  on  —  and  away, 
until  it  turns  off,  and  is  lost  in  the  mountains.  This 
little  valley,  which  but  this  morning  we  traversed 
in  part,  now  stretches  itself  out  so  far  before  us  that 
it  grows  indistinct  and  confused  to  the  sight  —  its 
fields  so  diminished  in  size  that  they  look  like 
garden-beds  ;  the  winding  stream  that  threads  it 
seeming  but  a  waving  line  of  silver.  The  picture 
has  all  the  delicacy  of  a  scene  in  miniature,  and 
there  is  a  witching  summer-softness  over  it  all  as 
of  the  beauty  and  the  sheen  of  a  voluptuous  woman, 
or  (if  you  prefer  it)  of  a  ripe  peach.  Further  over 
in  the  mountains  is  a  wider  and  more  open  valley, 
that  seems  from  here  almost  a  plain,  and  so  hazy 
and  indistinct  are  its  outlines,  that  your  imagination 
exerts  its  fanciful  power,  and  you  see  —  dimly  — 
vaguely  —  towers,  and  temples,  and  mighty  domes, 
revealing  themselves  before  your  eyes,  as  if  some 
lordly  city  was  about  to  grow  up  upon  the  plain  by 
enchantment.  Turning  again,  and  looking  straight 
forward,  eastwardly,  whence  we  came,  and  lo ! 
what  ideas  of  vastness  crowd  upon  the  mind ;  for  it 
is  all  one  vast  sea  of  mountains,  as  far  as  the  eye 
can  behold  —  range  beyond  range  ever  appearing  — 


4:2  THE    BLACKWATER    CHRONICLE. 

heaving  like  the  blue  waves  of  some  immense  sea 
—  wave  following  wave  in  endless  succession;  for 
your  horizon  being  bounded  everywhere  by  moun 
tains,  to  the  imagination  there  is  no  limit,  and  all 
beyond  is  wave  after  wave  of  the  same  giant  sea. 

Gazing  upon  this  noble  scene,  the  prior  of  St. 
Philips  grew  excited  —  his  eye  dilated — his  soul 
was  all  ablaze ;  and  no  longer  able  to  hold  himself, 
he  stretched  forth  his  right  hand  and  gave  tongue 
as  follows  : — • 

"  Gentlemen,  I  see  into  it  all  now,  and  if  our 
invasion  of  the  Alleganies  effects  nothing  else  I 
shall  go  home  satisfied.  Our  mountains  have  been 
greatly  slandered — most  vilely  traduced  by  the 
cockneys;  and  beholding  this  mighty  scene,  I'm 
lost  in  wonder  that  some  man  with  a  large  enough 
soul,  hasn't  long  since  put  them  right  before  the 
world." 

"  That's  right,  stick  it  into  them,  Prior  ;  give  it  to 
'em,  County,  you're  the  man  to  do  it." 

"  Put  to  route  and  everlasting  shame  the  whole 
insolent  and  conceited  herd." 

"Hash  them,  slash  them, 
All  to  pieces  dash  them  !" 

"  Let  them  have  it  as  Tom  Hyer  gave  it  to  Sul 
livan." 

"Dress  their  jackets  genteely,  Prior." 

"  Dont  spare  either  age,  sex,  or  condition." 


THE    COCKNEYS    EXPLAINED.  43 

"  Begin  :— 

"'Ornnes  conticuere  intentique  ora  tenebant, 
Sic '" 

"  Sic  who  !  He  dont  want  any  sicking,  let  him 
go  on." 

Silence  being  restored,  and  the  rage  of  the  expe 
dition  against  the  cockneys  a  little  mollified  by  the 
steam  it  had  let  off,  Mr.  Philips  plunged  epic-wise 
into  the  middle  of  things. 

"  If  I  were  called  upon,  gentlemen,  to  say  what 
was  the  great  especial  characteristic  of  our  Ameri 
can  mountains,  I  would  reply  at  once,  their  immen 
sity —  not  the  immensity  of  size,  but  of  extent  — 
that  they  fill  the  mind  with  the  same  order  of 
sublime  emotion  that  the  ocean  does,  with  this 
difference,  that  the  sublimity,  though  alike  in  kind, 
is  higher  in  degree." 

"  Good,  good !" 

"  How  clear  he  is !" 

"  The  mountain  sea  is  the  actual  sea  enlarged  to 
giant  proportions.  Standing  here  as  we  do  now, 
and  gazing  out  into  the  blue  waves  flowing  in 
toward  us  from  the  distant  horizon,  I  want  to  know, 
gentlemen,  what  sort  of  a  ship  would  that  be,  to 
which  these  waves  would  rise  mast-high  ?" 

u  What  sort  indeed  ?" 

"  Yes,  you  may  well  ask  what  sort !  not  such,  I 
take  it,  as  sailed  of  old  out  of  Tarsus  and  Tyre,  cal 
ling  forth  the  deep  wonder  of  Solomon;  not  such 


44  THE    BLACK  WATER    CHRONICLE. 

as  swept  the  seas  tinder  Nelson  at  Trafalgar  or  the 
Nile ;  not  such,  even,  as  those  that  now  sail  under 
the  star-spangled  banner — that  heaven-symbolized 
ensign  —  challenging  the  wonder  of  all  mankind; 
not  even  leviathan,  gentlemen,  now  in  dock  at 
Portsmouth  —  the  Pennsylvania.  Noah's  ark,  when 
it  rode  the  highest  wave  of  the  deluge  —  the  merest 
cockle-shell  as  it  must  have  seemed  in  those  mighty 
waters,  would  be  a  merer  cockle-shell  in  these." 

"  Fine.     How  figurative  is  his  style  !" 

"  Like  Jeremy  Taylor's  !" 

"  Something  of  the  massive  grandeur  of  Bishop 
Hooker's !" 

"  And  the  perfermdum  of  Milton's,  with  a  dis 
criminating  infusion  of  the  swash-buckler." 

"And  yet,  gentlemen,"  continued  Mr.  Philips, 
knitting  his  brows,  and  concentrating  his  eyes  to  a 
focus,  as  if  the  object  of  all  his  bile  stood  before 
him,  "  and  yet,  though  of  such  grandeur  are  these 
mountains,  filling  the  mind  with  such  nobility  of 
thought,  what  means  all  this  disparagement  that  is 
sputtered  forth  against  them  by  the  whole  herd  of 
modern  travellers,  abroad  and  at  home,  with  some 
few  honorable  exceptions,  who  talk  such  downright 
arrant  nonsense  about  them  ?" 

"  How  effectually  he  puts  a  question !" 

"  What  a  fool-killer  he  would  make  !" 

"The  old  Silenus  riding  an  ass!  Lambaste  him 
well,  Guy,  while  you're  on  him !" 


THE    COCKNEYS    EXPLAINED.  45 

"It  is  the  burden  of  all  these  cockneys,  gentle 
men,  and  particularly  of  the  John  Bull,  our  cousin- 
germain,  that  our  mountains  are  poor  concerns. 
Why  ?  Because  (say  these  gentlemen  fresh  from  the 
land  of  Cockaigne  and  thereabouts)  when  you  have 
labored  and  toiled  for  half  a  day  to  get  to  the  top 
of  the  highest  Ararat  or  Taurus  you  can  find,  you 
can  see  nothing  but  endless  mountains  before  you, 
and  always  in  the  farthest  distant  some  giant  higher 
still  than  that  whereon,  half-dead  in  climbing  it, 
you  foolishly  expected  to  behold  both  the  Atlantic 
and  Pacific  oceans." 

"  How  he  accumulates  it  upon  them !" 

"  Piles  the  agony  !" 

"  Wood  up,  County  !" 

a  Throw  in  the  bacon  sides !" 

"  And  not  true  this,  even  in  fact,  but  miserably 
untrue.  Why,  look  around  you  here  as  you  stand. 
The  refutation  of  the  foolish  nonsense  is  before  your 
eyes.  What  are  all  these  valleys,  great  and  small 
—  what  all  these  dells  and  gorges,  chasms,  defiles, 
passes  —  these  streams  and  rivers,  rivulets  and  rills. 
Look  at  that  drove  of  fatted  beeves,  winding  yonder 
over  the  Knobley  —  the  long  column  seemingly  in 
terminable.  What  have  you  to  say  to  that  lordly 
city  of  the  far  mountain  plain,  with  all  its  towers 
and  domes  —  its  vast  palaces  looming  up  to  the  eye, 
and  looming  larger  as  you  concentrate  your  gaze ; 
visible  only,  it  is  true,  to  the  imagination,  acted 


4:6  THE    BLACKWATEK    CHRONICLE. 

upon  through  the  deceived  sense,  but  yet  a  nobler- 
city  than  was  ever  built  by  hands !" 

"  Hold  on,  Prior,  let's  hear  that  again  !" 

"  Dont  speak,  Trip  ;  he's  about  to  touch  on  some 
thing  profound." 

"  And  if  such  seeming  cities,  gentlemen,  natur 
ally  arise  to  the  eye  here  in  the  mountains  —  natur 
ally,  because  the  result  of  natural  causes,  what 
though  in  absolute  fact  there  is  no  city  there  — 
what  if  it  is  illusion — all  in  my  eye,  as  the  vulgar 
say  ?  It  is  only  the  reasoning  mind  that  tells  you 
this.  The  imaginative  mind  tells  you  there  is  a 
city  :  one  part  of  your  intellectual  organization 
says  there  is  not,  another  part  tells  you  there  is,  and 
which  do  you  believe  ?  Most  undoubted,  as  far  as 
the  present  picture  is  concerned,  the  one  that  tells 
your  sense  that  there  before  you  stands  the  city. 
And  there,  to  all  intents  and  purposes,  it  does  stand 
apparent  before  you,  in  all  its  magnified  glory, 
such  as  was  never  built  by  human  hands,  such  as 
can  only  be  built  by  human  brains,  and  those  of  the 
nobler  order ;  a  city  up  to  the  standard  of  the  new 
Jerusalem,  if  your  imagination  is  of  the  order  of 
St.  John's. 

"  Don't  go  in  any  deeper,  Prior,  or  the  subject 
will  swim  you." 

"  Devil  the  bit,  its  good  wading  all  about  where 
he  is." 

"All   this   repeated   cant,  therefore,   about   our 


THE    COCKNEYS    EXPLAINED.  47 

American  mountains  is  not  true  in  point  of  fact. 
But  what  if  it  were?— yes,  gentlemen,  what  if  it 
were  ?  And  this  question  brings  me  to  the  gist 
of  the  matter.  According  to  the  very  statement  of 
the  cockneys,  upon  their  own  showing,  the  view 
now  before  them,  is  one  that  fills  the  human  mind 
with  ideas  of  the  highest  sublimity  ;  for  what,  to  the 
man  of  the  largest  comprehension,  can  be  more  im 
pressively  vast  than  this  same  immensity  of  moun 
tain  ocean  that  everywhere  presents  itself  to  view, 
with  all  its  heaving,  interminable,  giant  waves !" 

"  There  you  have  knocked  the  swords  out  of  the 
hands  of  the  puny  whipsters  !" 

"  Killed  them  dead  !" 

"  Dead  as  Julius  Caesar !" 

"  It's  a  slaughter  of  the  innocents  !" 

"  It  reminds  me  of  the  setting  down  Ulysses  gave 
Ther sites  in  the  Grecian  camp ! 

"  It's  great  spouting !" 

«  A  whale's  1" 

"Swamping  the  pigmies  in  a  deluge  of  ocean 
brine !" 

"What  a  senator  he  would  make!  how  they 
would  crowd  the  capitol  when  he  let  himself  out  I" 

He's  rather  high-strung,  I  think,  for  the  modern 
democracy !" 

"Not  so,  gentlemen,  the  very  style  and  manner 
of  eloquence  —  translucent,  bold,  free,  combining 
imagination  with  reason — that  has  prevailed  with 


4:8  THE    BLACKWATEK    CHRONICLE. 

all  who  speak  the  English  tongue,  from  the  days 
of  Alfred  the  Great  to  the  present  time." 

"  Gentlemen  of  the  expedition,"  resumed  Mr. 
Philips,  wiping  the  beads  from  his  forehead,  and 
with  a  self-sufficient  air  that  would  have  done  for 
the  prince  of  Tyre,  or  Xerxes  when  he  ordered  the 
sea  to  be  chained,  "I  think  we  have  sufficiently 
explained  the  cockneys." 

"  Explunctified  'em !" 

"  All  to  smashes,  Prior !" 

"At  all  events,  gentlemen,  I've  said  my  say  — 
I've  spit  my  spite,  and  my  soul  is  now  tranquil. 
With  a  serene  exaltation  I  can  again  gaze  over 
these  mountain  billows.  The  scene  is  indeed  sub 
lime  !  I  hear  "  the  mighty  waters  rolling  evermore" 

—  a  sound  as  of  the  poluphloisboio  thalasses  is  in 
my  ear.     What  a  manifold  ocean !     Here  on  the 
right  is  the  classic  Mediterranean: — yonder  mon 
strous  promontory  in  among  those  jagged  moun 
tains  is  Scylla;   and   wo  unto  the  mariner,   who, 
eager  to  avoid  its  dangers,  falls  into  the  neighbor 
ing  Charybdis's  awful  vortex  !    What  a  going  round 
and  round  and  round  would  be  his !    and  what  a 
swallowing  up  as  he  takes  the  suck  —  down  —  down 

—  derry  down,  to   the  roaring  music  of  the  mael 
strom.      Oh !   gentlemen,  but   it  would   be  grand 
shipwreck  over  there.     Here  to  the  left,  where  the 
shining  valley   shows  itself,   is  the   sunny   Archi 
pelago  and  the  Grecian  isles ;  and  that  grand  city 


THE   COCKNEYS    EXPLAINED.  49 

looming  up  from  the  waters  is  Athens  —  or  you 
may  have  it  old  Troy  —  or  the  glittering  city  of 
Constantine,  by  the  Thracian  Bosphorus.  There 
to  the  north  are  those  '  uncouth,  boisterous  seas,'  to 
whose  mercy  Francis  Drake  '  let  go'  all  that  was 
left  of  the  invincible  armada.  Here's  the  Horn, 
and  there's  the  cape  'of  storms' — where  you  see 
the  clouds  gather.  Yonder  hazy  point  is  Hatteras, 
and  that  tall  naked  pine  is  the  mast  of  some  yankee 
coaster,  wrecked  upon  its  fatal  sands.  All  before 
me  is  the  Atlantic ;  and  down  yonder,  fast-founded 
by  the  wide-watered  shore,  some  fifty  sea-leagues 
hence,  methinks  I  behold  the  lordly  dome  of  our 
capitol,  its  gorgeous  ensign  peacefully  flapping  its 
folds  over  the  land  of  the  free  and  the  home  of  the 
brave  !  And  yet  the  cockneys  say  these  a'n't  moun 
tains  !" 

"  God  bless  the  star-spangled  banner !" 

"  And  d d  for  ever  the  cockney  or  what  not, 

that  would  disparage,  in  any  manner,  the  country 
over  which  it  waves." 

"  At  another  time,  gentlemen,"  observed  the  Sig- 
nor  Andante,  "  I  could  desire  to  add  something  to 
the  glorification  of  our  mountains,  which  the  Prior 
hasn't  condescended  to  touch  upon  : — it  is  in  regard 
to  the  sylvan  majesty  of  their  scenery,  in  which 
they  differ  entirely  from  the  European.  You  have 
no  idea  how  bare  the  mountains  abroad  appear  to 
our  eyes,  accustomed  to  these  grand  forests.  In 
3 


50  THE    BLACKWATBR    CHRONICLE. 

connection  with  this  part  of  the  subject,  I  would 
like  to  take  the  cockneys  a  turn  or  two,  upon  the 
splendor  of  the  foliage  in  October  —  the  hues  of  all 
dyes  —  particularly  the  scarlet  — 

"  'The  leaves  that  with  one  scarlet  gleam, 
Cover  a  hundred  leagues  and  seem 
To  set  the  hills  on  fire.' 

"  But  we  can 't  stay  here  all  day."  And  the 
signor,  without  a  word  more,  and  with  all  that 
directness  and  determination  of  manner  that  char 
acterized  him,  betook  himself  to  his  rheda  —  all  the 
rest  following  —  the  Prior  a  little  whetted  by  the 
exercise  he  took  against  the  subjects  of  the  king  of 
Cockaigne. 


WINSTON    AND    ITS    CASTELLAN.  51 


CHAPTEK   Y. 

WINSTON   AND    ITS    CASTELLAN MR.    EDWARD    TOWERS. 

THE  sun  by  this  time  is  riding  nearly  midway  in 
the  skies,  and  we  hasten  on  to  the  summit  of  the 
mountain,  seven  miles  up  from  its  base.  We  have 
climbed  "  the  mighty  Helvelyn  ;"  and,  what  is  more, 
we  have  said  our  say  in  doing  it,  to  the  honor  and 
glory  of  the  land,  and  the  confounding  of  its  ene 
mies,  their  aiders  and  abettors.  Here  you  gaze  over 
the  plateau  of  the  wide  Allegany  ranges  —  some 
twenty  miles  across  by  the  road  ;  and  far  in  the  dis 
tance  you  behold  the  Backbone  —  the  Taurus  of  the 
belt — down  whose  rugged  sides  the  waters  flow 
east  and  west  into  the  far  seas. 

Some  four  or  five  miles  on  our  way,  more  or  less 
descending,  on  the  side  of  a  long  hill  that  slopes 
down  to  Stony  river,  we  stopped  for  the  middle  of 
the  day  at  a  large  stone  inn,  kept  open  to  the  world 
by  William  Poole — Bill  Poole  seems  to  be  his  bet 
ter-established  designation  hereabouts  —  from  which 
familiar  and  easy  manner  of  indicating  him  and  his, 
we  take  it  he  is  a  good  fellow,  a  ~bon  camera-do^  in 
his  neighborhood.  Mr.  Poole  was  not  at  home,  but 


52  THE    BLACKWATER    CHRONICLE. 

he  had  left  a  big  viceroy  over  his  dominions,  under 
whose  lazy  sway  some  broiling  and  frying  was  ac 
complished,  that  stayed  a  little  that  sacred  rage 
about  which  we  spoke  in  the  beginning  of  this 
chronicle.  The  hostler  also  was  absent ;  and  find 
ing  no  representative  of  that  very  important  official, 
we  turned  in  and  groomed  our  own  horses ;  and  it 
was  well  done  —  which  says  something  as  to  the 
value  of  being  able  to  take  care  of  yourself  in  this 
wide  world.  We  took  our  coats  off,  rolled  up  our 
sleeves,  and  "pitched  in"  to  the  work,  according 
to  the  formula  prescribed  in  the  stables  of  Colonel 
Johnson,  of  Chesterfield  —  now  dead  and  gone — 
whose  word  was  once  law  in  all  matters  of  hippol- 
ogy  —  horse-talk  the  unlearned  do  call  it. 

"That  hardihood,"  observed  Mr.  Butcut,  as  he 
twisted  a  fresh  wisp  of  straw,  "  which  scales  mount 
ains,  penetrates  the  wilderness,  or  subjugates  the 
beasts  of  the  chase,  while  at  the  same  time  it  re 
fuses  to  exert  itself  upon  the  needful  well-being  of 
your  horse,  is  but  little  to  be  commended." 

"  Eight,  Doctor  Johnson  !" 

"  The  great  Cyrus,"  said  Doctor  Blandy,  "  did  not 
think  it  beneath  him  to  exercise  his  care  over  the 
elephants  he  took  with  him  on  his  expeditions." 

"In  Egypt,  Napoleon  always  took  special  care 
of  the  asses  when  he  went  into  battle,"  said  Trip- 
tolemus. 

"  King  Eichard  II.,  Shakspeare  tells  us,  fed  roan 


WINSTON    AND   ITS    CASTELLAN.  53 

Barbary  with  his  own  hands,"  put  in  the  Prior,  ta 
king  a  long  breath. 

"  If  I  am  not  mistaken,"  said  the  artist,  "  I  have 
read  it  in  the  Iliad  that  Andromache  herself  fed 
Hector's  horses — " 

"  To  be  sure  she  did  !"  said  Trip,  "  and  with  grain 
which  she  steeped  in  wine." 

"  What  is  more  directly  to  the  point  ?"  observed 
Blandy.  "  Let  me  remind  you,  gentlemen,  of  the 
personal  care  bestowed  by  Dugald  Dalgetty  upon 
Gustavus." 

"  Enough,"  said  Mr.  Butcut.  "  That  man  is  little 
to  be  envied  who  does  not  feel  himself  all  in  a  glow 
at  having  accomplished  the  generous  labor  of  rub 
bing  down  his  own  horse.  To  my  mind,  it  is  an 
evidence  of  a  princely  disposition.  Nothing,  indeed, 
can  be  more  honorable — when  you  can  get  nobody 
else  to  do  it  for  you — but  if  I  rub  my  *  Gustavus' 
again,  if  he  never  gets  a  rubbing,  I  hope  I  may 
never  reach  Winston!"  —  And  Peter  threw  down 
his  wisp,  and  washed  himself  in  the  horse-bucket, 
after  the  manner  of  a  hostler. 

With  such  like  stable-talk — of  which  the  above 
is  but  a  small  sample  —  we  finished  the  rites,  and 
left  our  Gustavuses  to  the  enjoyment  of  their  oats. 

In  due  course  of  time  we  once  more  encountered 
the  road ;  and  after  a  drive  of  some  twelve  miles, 
over  the  undulating  tops  of  this  wide  belt  of  mount 
ains,  down  their  gorges,  through  the  passes,  by  farms 


:  THE    BLACKWATER    CHRONICLE. 

lately  cleared  and  green  with  wild  timothy,  blue- 
grass,  and  white  clover — the  natural  growth  of  these 
fine  grazing  regions  —  we  at  length  crossed  the  Po 
tomac,  and,  winding  up  a  long,  fair  sweep  of  hill, 
slackened  rein  before  the  gates  of  Winston. 

It  was  somewhere  about  five  o'clock  when  we 
won  the  stone,  having  driven  some  forty-three  miles 
since  we  left  the  pleasant  town  of  Romney  in  the 
early  morning :  forty-three  miles  of  such  delightful 
travel  as  can  hardly  be  found  elsewhere  within  our 
borders. 

We  hailed  our  resting-place  with  divers  and  man 
ifold  exclamations  of  surprise  and  delight,  which 
brought  the  alert  Towers  to  the  hostel-gates,  in  a 
very  broad-brimmed  straw  hat,  stuck  all  over  with 
fishing  hooks  and  lines.  The  castle  of  Winston 
stands,  like  the  castle  of  Richmond,  "fair  on  the 
hill ;"  and  although  it  did  not  greet  our  eyes  with 
the  feudal  grandeur  of  Korham  —  with  warders  on 
the  turrets,  donjon-keep,  loophole  grates  where  cap 
tives  weep,  and  the  banner  of  St.  George  napping 
idly  in  the  breeze,  as  that  famous  hold  met  the  gaze 
of  Marmion  and  his  train  as  they  came  "pricking 
o'er  the  hill,"  yet  it  looked  cheerful  and  pleasant 
enough — had  an  air  of  something  even  like  elegance 
as  the  western  sun  shed  its  splendor  upon  it.  The 
porches  with  which  it  was  arrayed  imparted  a  look 
as  of  something  "  bedecked,  ornate,  and  gay,"  like 
Delilah,  Samson's  wife,  "  this  way  sailing."  Above 


WINSTON    AND    ITS    CASTELLAN.  55 

all,  it  filled  the  mind  perforce  with  comfortable 
thoughts  of  the  mountain-breeze,  as  it  spread  itself 

out  on  the  brow-of  a  commanding  hill a  grand 

hill,  that  stretches  down  for  half  a  mile  in  bold, 
lawn-like  sweeps,  to  the  Potomac :  the  river  here 
flowing  along  in  all  wild  beauty,  some  twelve  or 
fifteen  miles  below  where  it  emerges,  a  wimpling 
rill,  from  the  slopes  of  the  Backbone. 

^  The  castellan  or  governor  of  Winston,  Edward 
Towers,  Esq.,  met  us  at  the   portals,  with  evident 
gladness  in  his  heart.     Right  away,  he  called  for  his 
right-hand  man  Andrew,  and  proclaimed  loud  and 
quick  his  edicts  in  regard  to  horses,  carriages,  lug 
gage,  ^everything;  every  here  and  there  something 
escaping  his  tongue,  imprecatory  of  his  or  Andrew's 
eyes,  or  other  parts  of  their  bodies,  snch  as  their 
lights  or  livers,  and  even  their  diviner  parts :  his 
movements  all  the  while  in  just  keeping  with  his 
utterance,  being  wiry  and  terrier-like,  up  and  down 
instead  of  longwise  — energetic,  sudden— just  such 
action  as  hooks  a  trout  without  fail,  and  accounts 
for  the  governor  of  Winston's  great  reputation  in 
these  parts  as  a  fisherman. 

"Walk  in,  gentlemen,"  said  Mr.  Towers;  "walk 
in,  walk  in.  Aha!  well,  indeed,  you  are  here  at 
last!  Looked  for  you  all  day  yesterday.  Devil 
take  me  !  Where  did  you  come  from  to-day,  gen 
tlemen?" 

"From  Romney." 


56  THE    BLACKWATEK    CHRONICLE. 

"By  this  time!  Where  did  you  dine — not  at 
Eeese's  ?  Perhaps  you  had  something  with  you  ?" 

"  We  stopped  back  here  some  twelve  miles,  at  a 
large  stone  house  on  the  side  of  a  hill." 

"At  Poole's —  Bill  Poole's.  He  went  up  above 
here  to-day,  fishing,  d n  his  eyes !" 

"  How  are  the  trout,  Towers  ?" 

"There's  nothing  else  in  the  water!  I  just  took 
Andrew  yesterday  evening,  and  went  up  to  the  falls 
of  the  Potomac  —  slept  out  all  night  on  the  hem 
lock —  and  by  breakfast-time  this  morning  got  home 
with  over  two  hundred  !  How  many,  Andrew  ?" 

"  You're  right." 

"  Yes,  two  or  three  hundred.  Devil  take  me,  if  I 
couldn't  have  caught  a  three-bushel  bag  full  as  easy 
as  not!" 

This  information  was  somewhat  exciting,  and  gave 
rise  to  a  desire,  on  the  part  of  the  more  impressible 
members  of  the  invasion,  to  commence  demonstra 
tions  against  the  enemy  forthwith.  With  this  view, 
Doctor  Blandy  inquired  of  Towers  the  distance  to 
the  falls. 

"  About  eight  miles,"  answered  the  castellan  qui 
etly. 

"  And  how  is  the  road  ?" 

"The  road — road,  did  you  say!  The  middle  of 
the  river  is  the  best  road  I  know." 

"You  can't  ride  to  them,  then?" 

"  There  is  a  sort  of  a  way  over  the  hills,  if  you 


WINSTON    AND    ITS    CASTELLAN.  57 

could  find  it.     But  that  stops  at  the  laurel,  just  be 
fore  you  come  to  Laurel  run." 

"What's  the  laurel?"  asked  Triptolemus,  open 
ing  his  eyes. 

"  You  '11  learn  enough  about  it,  Mr.  Todd,  before 
you  leave  here  —  more  than  you  '11  care  about  know 
ing,  I  reckon,"  observed  Mr.  Towers,  with  a  smile 
of  superiority  at  Murad's  ignorance  of  the  laurel. 
"  The  laurel,  Mr.  Todd,  is  the  big  laurel  of  these  re 
gions,  that  borders  all  the  streams;  and  it's  about 
as  much  as  a  man  can  do  to  get  through  it,  let  alone 
a  horse." 

"Ugh — uh!"  replied  Trip  —  which  was  a  queer 
sort  of  laughing  chuckle  that  characterized  that  gen 
tleman  upon  all  occasions. 

It  was  clear  that  the  falls  of  the  Potomac  were 
out  of  the  question  that  evening  ;  and  notwithstand 
ing  all  manner  of  trout  were  leaping  up  and  down 
them  in  our  mind's  eye,  we  desisted  for  the  present 
from  any  further  investigations  as  to  the  way  by 
which  they  were  to  be  reached. 

"  But,  Towers,"  said  Mr.  Botecote,  authoritatively, 
"  there  must  certainly  be  some  place  near  here  where 
we  could  have  some  pretty  fair  sport  for  an  hour 
or  so.  I  would  like  to  add  a  few  fish  to  your  sup 
per." 

At  this  announcement,  Mr.  Towers  looked  a  little 
astonished,  and  replied,  confusedly  —  for  Peter's 
manner  was  something  lofty  and  imposing  — 

3* 


58  THE    BLACKWATER    CHRONICLE. 

"  Oil  yes,  certainly,  Mr. 1  really  didn't  hear 

your  name — " 

"  Botecote,"  said  Peter. 

"  Certainly,  Mr.  Botecote  — I  didn't  think  of  that ; 
I  really  thought  now  a  couple  of  hundred  might  do 
you  I" 

"  You  started  with  two  hundred,  raised  immedi 
ately  to  three  hundred  —  may  have  four  hundred 
by  this  time  —  and  with  all,  Mr.  Towers,  I  may  pos 
sibly  go  to  bed  only  tantalized  with  them." 

"  If  there  is  one  in  the  house  this  minute,  there 's 
four  hundred,  big  and  little !  May  the " 

"  Be  it  so,  then,  Mr.  Towers,  and  don't  swear. 
I'll  lay  me  down  here  on  this  settle,  and  methinks 
I'll  take  a  nap." 

"  To-morrow,  then,  we'll  begin  the  attack." 

"  Bright  and  early." 

"When  the  hunter's  horn  is  first  heard  on  the 
golden  hills." 

"  And  I'll  go  with  you,"  said  Mr.  Towers,  "  and 
show  you  the  ground.  We'll  make  a  day  of  it — 
fish  up  to  the  falls  and  back.  Those  that  don't  want 
to  go  so  far,  can  stay  below  here  at  some  pools  in 
the  river.  There's  one  pool  that  I  call  Ashmun's 
pool,  after  Mr.  Ashmun  of  Massachusetts.  May  be 
some  of  you  know  him.  Devil  take  my  lights  now, 
if  he  didn't  pull  out  of  that  pool  a  basketful !  One 
of  them  weighed  a  pound  and  a  half;  if  it  didn't, 
you  may  drown  me  !" 


WINSTON    AND   ITS    CASTELLAN.  59 

"  Ugh — uh  !"  exclaimed  Triptolemus. 

"  iNo  doubt  about  it,"  resumed  Towers.  You  see 
he  fished  with  the  fly,  which  is  a  sort  of  curiosity 
to  our  fish,  and  rather  takes  'em  in  for  a  little  while. 
But  give  me  the  worm,  after  all." 

"You  fish  with  the  worm,  then,  Mr.  Towers?" 

"Yes  —  anything  I  can  lay  my  hands  on." 

"Did  you  ever  try  the  bug?" 

"  The  bug  ?  what's  the  bug  ?" 

"  The  Prior  there  has  one.  You  ought  to  see  it ! 
I  venture  to  say  that  every  large  trout  in  the  stream 
will  make  at  it." 

"  What's  it  like  ?"  asked  Towers. 

"  Here's  a  likeness  of  it,"  replied  the  artist,  ta 
king  out  his  pencil,  and  drawing  a  rather  exagger 
ated  caricature  of  it. 

"  Devil  take  me,"  exclaimed  Mr.  Towers,  "  if  it 
won't  scare  the  biggest  trout  that  ever  swam  the 
Potomac !  That  thing !  Why,  what  sort  of  a  bug 
do  you  call  it  ?" 

"  It's  called  the  trout  hum-bug,"  said  Peter.  . 

"  Well,  gentlemen,  i  had  thought  that  may  be  I 
might  some  time  or  other  try  the  fly,  and  see  what 
I  could  do  with  it ;  but  if  ever  you  get  me  to  at 
tempt  that  thing,  may  the But  there's  no  use 

talking  about  it.  Come  along,  Andrew,  and  get 
out  some  oats  for  the  horses.  The  best  oats  you 
ever  saw,  gentlemen.  Hustle,  Andrew! — hustle 
along !" 


60  THE   BLAOKWATEE    CHRONICLE. 

And  so  away  hurried  the  castellan,  with  Andrew 
after  him — Towers  going  off  with  a  vehement,  per 
pendicular  movement,  like  one  of  the  old  grasshop 
per  engines  on  the  railroad,  when  under  a  great 
press  of  steam. 

"I  think  the  Prior's  bug  was  too  much  for  our 
host,"  observed  the  artist. 

"  He's  a  worm-fisher !"  said  Doctor  Blandy  dis 
dainfully.  "  If  I  were  you,  Prior,  when  I  got  my 
bug  out  to-morrow,  I  wouldn't  let  him  come  on  the 
same  side  of  the  river  with  me." 

"  What  a  remarkably  high  mover  he  is !"  said 
Trip. 

"  If  the  governor  of  Winston's  performance  comes 
anywhere  near  the  promise  of  his  speech  and  move 
ment,  we  shall  fare  well,  both  man  and  horse."  And 
this  fair  promise  was  not  broken  to  the  sense  —  it 
was  fairly  kept.  The  oats  were  as  fine  as  ever  grew 
—heavy,  polished,  hard,  plump,  and  golden ;  and 
Andrew  was  only  too  liberal  in  dispensing  them  to 
each  whynnying  and  pawing  horse.  As  for  our 
selves,  Gil  Bias  and  Scipio  ate  no  such  supper  in 
their  retreat  at  Lirias.  Fifty  fine  trout,  all  beautiful 
ly  embrowned,  and  like  Ate,  hot  from  —  the  flames 
below,  came  and  went,  and  came  and  went  again ; 
and  so  lightly  did  they  sit  upon  our  bosom's  lord, 
that  it  seemed  all  illusion  —  the  insubstantial  and 
pageant  supper  of  a  dream  —  to  divest  the  mind  of 
which  fallacy,  nothing  but  the  appropriate  disposi- 


WINSTON   AND   ITS    CASTELLAN.  61 

tion  of  a  series  of  venison-steaks  could  suffice.  Af 
ter  some  protracted  effort,  however,  in  this  way,  the 
illusion  was  finally  driven  out  from  the  mind,  and  we 
were  happy  in  the  content  of  the  succeeding  hours 
—  hours  spent  in  dreamy  silence,  or  in  easy  conver 
sation  upon  subjects  appertaining  to  the  gentle  phi 
losophy  of  Epicurus.  And  so,  without  a  disturbing 
thought,  indolently  reclining  around,  we  whiled  the 
time  away. 

Thus  passing  the  first  hours  of  the  night,  at  length 
we  went  to  bed;  and  while  yet  conscious  of  bliss, 
sleep  mingled  itself  stealthily  in  with  the  visions  of 
the  mountains  and  the  rivers  that  were  passing  in 
ever-changing  procession  over  the  brain :  each  vis 
ion  growing  more  indistinct  as  the  long  procession 
swept  on  —  until  at  length,  with  the  splash  of  some 
leaping  trout  in  your  ear,  and  his  bright  colors 
gleaming  in  your  eye,  sound  and  sight  were  gone. 
Such  is  the  sleep  of  those  who  travel  high  mount 
ain-regions,  or  sail  the  salt  seas  in  temperate  climes. 
Such  was  at  first  the  sleep  of  this  expedition,  light 
as  the  early  mist  on  the  river.  But,  by-and-by,  its 
folds  descended  more  heavily  upon  us — heavy  as  a 
cloud  ;  and  then  it  became  musical — ravishing  the 
ear  of  night  with  a  varied  harmony,  a  concord  in 
discord  of  flutes,  and  soft  recorders,  and  horns  — 
the  loud  bassoon,  with  every  now  and  then  a  turn 
of  the  hurdy-gurdy,  and  sometimes  the  drone  of  the 
bagpipe.  Rossini  is  said  to  have  caught  the  idea 


62  THE   BLACKWATER    CHRONICLE. 

of  the  song  of  the  barber,  in  his  great  opera,  from 
the  braying  of  an  ass.  Had  he  heard  this  sleep,  a 
far  more  wonderful  strain  would  have  streamed 
forth  beneath  the  fingers  of  the  immortal  composer ! 
No  Lilliputian  slumber  shall  this  chronicle  record 
it,  if  I  can  help  it  —  but  rather  that  such  as  swelled 
grandly  forth  upon  the  night  air,  nightly,  through 
out  the  Brobdignag  realms ! 


THE   INVASION    DETERMINED    UPON.  63 


CHAPTEK   VI. 

THE   BLACKWATER    INVASION    DETERMINED   UPON. 

THE  head-fountain  of  the  Potomac  rises  high  on 
the  eastern  side  of  the  dividing  Allegany  ridge,  not 
far  below  the  cone  of  the  mountain,  and  near  the 
boundary-stone  planted  by  Lord  Fairfax  to  mark 
the  farthest  limit  of  that  princely  territory — embra 
cing  all  the  country  lying  between  the  waters  of  the 
Potomac  and  Rappahannock  rivers — which  he  inher 
ited  as  a  grant  from  the  British  crown.  The  Potomac 
is  formed,  in  its  very  beginnings,  by  the  union  of  sev 
eral  smaller  springs  with  this  head-spring,  as  they 
descend  the  steeps  of  the  mountain.  The  little  riv 
ulet,  pursuing  its  course  along  the  base  of  the  Back 
bone,  is  gradually  augmented  by  the  springs  that 
flow  down  in  every  direction  through  the  ravines 
around,  until  it  attains  a  breadth  of  some  thirty  feet 
at  the  small  falls,  about  five  miles  below  its  source. 
Below  the  falls  there  are  some  eight  or  ten  streams 
making  into  it:  the  Big  Laurel,  Little  Laurel,  Sand 
run,  and  Shields's  run,  on  the  Maryland  side ;  the 
Horseshoe,  Buffalo  run,  the  Dog's  Hind-Leg,  and 
some  others,  on  the  Virginia  shore.  This  accession 


64:  THE    BLACKWATEK    CHEONICLE. 

of  little  streams  swells  it  into  quite  a  sizeable  mount 
ain-river  by  the  time  it  reaches  opposite  to  Winston. 
It  is  here  some  sixty  feet  wide  —  a  clear,  fresh,  wild 
stream,  reflecting  every  pebble  that  lies  in  its  bed 
—  shaded  by  stately  forests,  and  fringed  with  vines 
and  flowers.  Of  course,  it  is  filled  with  trout;  and 
although  it  is  a  good  deal  fished  by  those  who  fre 
quent  here  in  the  summer,  yet  it  still  continues  to 
yield  up  its  treasure  in  sufficient  abundance  for  the 
constant  supply  of  the  table  at  Winston. 

For  two  days  we  made  unceasing  war  throughout 
this  Potomac  region,  as  far  up  as  the  falls.  The 
first  day  we  brought  in  over  two  hundred  fish,  some 
of  them  of  fine  size.  The  second  day  we  took  more, 
having  invaded  some  of  the  larger  tributary  streams 
mentioned  above.  So  it  will  be  seen  we  had  trout 
in  abundance. 

When  the  third  day  came  round,  there  was  a  gen 
eral  desire  expressed,  when  we  assembled  at  the 
breakfast-table,  to  foray  in  some  new  country.  We 
had  invaded  the  Potomac  in  all  reason  —  having  in 
these  two  days  pretty  well  gone  over  the  ground 
hereabouts.  The  mind  of  desultory  man  is  still  as 
studious  of  change,  and  pleased  with  novelty,  under 
our  republican  order  of  things,  as  it  has  been  here 
tofore  under  the  older  polities  of  the  world.  Indeed, 
it  is  a  characteristic  of  our  American  Saxon,  exceed 
ing  that  of  all  others  of  the  Saxon,  or  any  other  com 
bination.  .  .  .  But  where  to  go?  —  that  is  the  ques- 


THE    INVASION    DETERMINED    UPON.  65 

tion.  Mexico  has  been  taken  —  and  where  shall  we 
find  a  Cuba?  Some  proposed  an  incursion  into  the 
Glades,  over  about  Snow  creek,  said  to  be  unfre 
quented  ground  :  one  was  for  the  Evergreen-glades, 
another  for  the  Oak-glades  ;  some  for  the  lower  Po 
tomac —  but  there  were  rattlesnakes  down  the  river, 
it  was  said,  and  that  was  a  damper.  In  this  variety 
of  opinion,  the  indolent  policy  prevailed :  and  it 
was  determined  to  pass  the  day  sub  tegmine  —  ram 
bling  over  the  hills,  and  in  the  enjoyment  of  an 
easy,  lounging  time  of  it  about  the  porches  of  the 
inn. 

Sitting  on  the  long  porch  that  fronts  the  river, 
enjoying  the  cool  breeze  that  seems  always  to  fan 
these  hill-tops,  some  mention,  among  our  other  talk, 
happened  to  be  made  of  "  THE  CANAAN,"  or  wilder 
ness-country,  over  on  the  head-waters  of  the  Cheat. 
It  so  happened  that  one  of  our  party  had  been  told, 
many  years  ago,  that  this  land  of  Canaan  was  as 
perfect  a  wilderness  as  our  continent  contained,  al 
though  it  was  not  many  miles  away  from  the  Glades 
on  one  side,  and  the  long  settled  parts  of  Hardy  and 
Randolph  counties  on  the  other  ;  a  country  where 
the  wild  beasts  of  the  forest  yet  roamed  as  unmo 
lested  as  they  did  when  the  Indians  held  possession 
of  our  borders  ;  a  howling  wilderness  of  some  twen 
ty  or  thirty  miles'  compass,  begirt  on  all  sides  by 
civilization,  yet  unexplored.  This  statement  was 
brought  to  mind  by  the  casual  mention  of  thevcoun- 


bO  THE    BLACKWATER    CHRONICLE. 

try  as  we  sat  talking  upon  the  porch ;  and  it  led  to 
much  inquiry  in  regard  to  the  wilderness.  Our 
landlord,  as  soon  as  the  subject  was  broached,  en 
tered  largely  into  it,  and  dilated  upon  the  wonders 
of  the  Canaan  in  very  glowing  terms.  It  was  only 
a  few  years  ago,  he  told  us,  that  elk  had  been  killed 
upon  its  boundaries,  not  far  from  the  settlements, 
at  a  place  called  the  Elk-lick.  He  said  there  were 
deer  in  great  herds  —  so  wild,  that  they  were  almost 
tame.  "  And,  gentlemen,"  he  continued,  with  great 
animation,  "  if  you  can  only  reach  the  falls  of  the 
Blackwater,  you  can  take  more  trout  in  an  hour 
than  you  ever  took  before  in  all  your  lives." 

"  Ugh  —  uh  !"  exclaimed  Triptolemus,  with  his 
usual  chuckle. 

"  You  don't  tell  me  so !"  said  Peter,  with  open 
eyes  and  mouth. 

"  If  you  say  so,"  resumed  Mr.  Towers,  "  we'll  go 
into  the  country  —  Andrew  can  take  care  of  the 
house  —  and  we'll  have  such  fishing  as  was  never 
heard  of.  But  understand  now,  gentlemen,  you've 
got  to  do  a  little  of  the  roughest  and  hardest  sort 
of  walking  and  climbing.  Then  there's  the  laurel 
you  must  go  through.  And  you  mustn't  mind  sleep 
ing  on  hemlock,  and  in  the  rain  too  —  it's  always 
raining  over  on  the  Bone." 

This  was  only  applying  additional  stimulus  to  the 
desire  that  had  already  taken  possession  of  us,  and 
at  all  risks  we  determined  to  go  on  the  morrow,  pro- 


THE    INVASION    DETERMINED    UPON.  67 

vided  we  could  secure  the  aid  of  two  well-known 
hunters  of  this  region  to  lead  us  on  our  way.  Ac 
cordingly,  we  despatched  a  messenger  to  the  house 
of  Joe  Powell,  who  lived  on  the  borders  of  the  Win 
ston  property,  with  a  request  that  he  would  get  John 
Conway,  another  hunter,  living  some  miles  farther 
off,  and  come  down  in  the  evening  to  see  us.  These 
men  came  over  daring  the  day,  and  it  was  all  ar 
ranged  before  they  left  us,  that  we  would  set  off  in 
the  morning  early  for  the  Blackwater. 

Everything  being  put  in  train  for  the  expedition, 
we  gathered  together  on  the  long  porch  toward 
nightfall,  and  passed  the  time  in  much  further  dis 
course  upon  the  Canaan — commenting  variously 
on  the  information  we  had  gathered  from  Powell 
and  Conway,  who  had  been  out  as  far  as  the  smaller 
falls  of  the  Blackwater,  hunting  deer  in  the  winter- 
season,  but  had  never  been  at  the  great  falls  of  the 
stream  —  the  existence  of  which  they  only  inferred 
from  the  roar  of  water  that  filled  the  forest,  when 
they  were  out  there. 

In  order  that  the  reader  may  the  better  enter  into 
the  spirit  of  our  wilderness  adventure,  we  will  take 
the  liberty  of  introducing  him  more  familiarly  to 
our  party. 

In  a  large  arm-chair,  spread  out  to  the  extent  of 
his  bulk,  with  his  feet  resting  upon  a  bench,  and 
leaning  back  against  the  railing  of  the  porch,  sat  a 
gentleman — stout,  ample,  and  muscular — with  a 


68  THE    BLACKWATER    CHRONICLE. 

handsome  face,  rosy  with  bloom,  and  a  pleasant 
twinkle  of  the  eye,  that  told  of  the  mirthful  charac 
ter  of  his  mind.  Just  now,  though,  his  countenance 
was  grave  and  thoughtful.  Eattlesnakes  seemed  to 
have  taken  entire  possession  of  him,  ever  since  we 
had  determined  upon  our  march  into  the  wilder 
ness  ;  and  presently  he  put  the  following  question 
to  Mr.  Towers,  with  great  emphasis : — 

"  Do  you  think,  Mr.  Towers,  that  my  big  fishing- 
boots —  that  very  big  pair,  with  the  red  tops,  hang 
ing  up  against  the  wall — will  save  me  against  the 
bite  of  a  rattler?" 

"  Oh,  bless  you,  Mr.  Butcut,  there  are  none  in 
these  hills.  If  there  were,  I  can  assure  you,  sir  — 
may  I  be  hang-danged  if  I  would  live  here  a  single 
day  —  not  even  to  own  Winston!  A  rattlesnake, 
sir,  has  never  been  seen  higher  up  this  way  than 
some  two  miles  below  yonder,  at  the  foot  of  that 
mountain — and  then  only  one — and  he  had  to  clear 
out.  It  don't  suit  'em  up  here.  Seven  miles  off 
yonder,  on  the  side  of  that  mountain,  there  is  a  den 
of  them — where  there  are  a  plenty  —  so  thick,  you 
can  smell  'em.  But  they  stay  down  in  that  region, 
and  never  come  up  this  way." 

"  That's  what  Powell  says ;  for  I  took  him  one 
side,  and  asked  him  particularly  about  them.  I 
think  I  would  go  into  a  fit  if  I  should  happen  to 
tread  on  one  of  the  blasted  reptiles !" 

u  Make  yourself  easy  about  them.     I  pledge  you 


THE    INVASION   DETERMINED    UPON.  69 

my  honest  word,  there  a'n't  any  up  here.  The  coun 
try's  too  cool,  or  something  or  other,  for  them.  The 
devil  take  me — but  I  believe  if  I  was  to  see  one  of 
them,  I  would  jump  clean  out  of  my  skin!  I'm- 
monstrously  afraid  of  'em  - —  and  I  confess  it.  I  don't 
mind  a  wild-cat — he'll  run  from  you  :  nor  a  bear, 
unless  it's  a  she-bear,  with  cubs  —  and  then  look 
out,  I  tell  you  !  But  rattlesnakes  and  copper-heads 
my  nerves,  somehow,  won't  stand.  If  I  might  take 
the  liberty — you  seem  to  have  a  little  dislike  to 
them  yourself." 

"  If  you  would  put  on  a  pair  of  thick  cloth  pan 
taloons,  and  draw  on  a  big  pair  of  boots  outside  — 
such  as  mine  yonder,  Towers  —  I  should  suppose 
you  would  be  safe  from  a  bite." 

"  I  should  hate  to  trust  them  any  way  ;  rather  not 
be  struck  at  by  them  at  all.  Why,  they  have  fangs 
an  inch  long!" 

"What  would  you  do,  if  one  was  to  bite  you?" 

"Just  lie  down  and  die  —  give  it  up  at  once." 

"Not  so,"  broke  in  the  artist;  "no  necessity  for 
dying  at  all.  Take  out  your  knife,  and  cut  out  the 
flesh  round  where  you're  struck  —  suck  the  wound 
—  then  burn  some  gunpowder  into  it- — and  you're 
safe  enough." 

"  Drink  a  pint  or  so  of  raw  whiskey  or  brandy 
right  off,"  observed  the  doctor,  "  and  there's  no 
danger." 

"Not  so  much  from  the  snake,  may  be." 


THE    BLACK  WATER    CHRONICLE. 

"  If  I  am  not  mistaken,  I  read  an  account,  a  year 
or  so  ago,  of  an  experiment  made  before  the  French 
physicians,  by  which  it  was  ascertained  that  a  flask 
of  olive-oil  was  a  certain  cure  of  the  bite.  Two 
country-people  came  in,  received  the  bite  of  a  viper, 
swallowed  a  flask  of  oil  each,  and  experienced  no 
other  harm  than  a  little  drowsiness  for  a  few  days." 

"  Swallow  a  good  deal  of  sweet  milk,"  said  a  coun 
tryman  sitting  by.  "I've  known  that  to  cure  a 
man." 

" Eau-de-luce,"  replied  the  doctor,  "rubbed  on 
outwardly,  and  taken  internally  to  prevent  coagu 
lation  of  the  blood,  would  be  good." 

"Well,  now,"  said  the  countryman  who  spoke 
before,  "  for  my  part,  I'm  more  afraid  of  a  copper 
head  than  I  am  of  a  rattlesnake  ;  for  he  never  gives 
you  any  warning.  He's  a  night  snake,  too — he'll 
bite  at  night,  and  the  other  won't." 

"  How  much  olive-oil  have  you  in  the  house  ?" 
inquired  Peter. 

"I  don't  believe  there's  any,"  replied  Towers; 
"but  I've  got  a  plenty  of  castor-oil,"  if  that  would 
do." 

"Have  you  any  fish-oil?"  asked  Triptolemns. 

"  I  think  we  had  better  drive  a  cow  along,"  said 
Andante. 

"  What  would  you  milk  her  in  ?" 

"  In  the  frying-pan." 

"I  am  free  to  say,  gentlemen,"  observed  Mr.  But- 


THE    INVASION    DETERMINED    UPON. 


71 


cut,  "  that  I  have  more  confidence  in  the  brandy 
than  anything  else ;  and,  as  that  is  more  at  hand, 
we'll  each  take  a  flask  with  us,  in  case  of  acci 
dents." 

This  proposition  was  readily  assented  to — and 
with  it  the  subject  of  the  rattlesnakes  was  about  to 
be  dismissed ;  but  in  the  meantime  the  artist  had 
taken  out  his  pencil,  and  drawn  a  caricature  of  But- 
cut  pursued  by  a  rattler — his  hair  on  end — eyes 


wide — nostril  distended  —  fishing-rod,  with  a  big 
trout  on  the  end  of  it,  dropped  —  and  the  rattler, 
with  about  twenty  rattles  on  his  tail,  and  his  crest 
raised  ready  to  strike,  in  hot  pursuit !  The  carica 
ture  was  well  enough.  The  castellan  was  both  as 
tonished  and  delighted.  "Isn't  it  like  him?"  he 
exclaimed,  and  broke  out  into  what  an  old-country- 


72  THE   BLACK  WATER    CHKONICLE. 

man  of  my  acquaintance  used  to  call  an  imbrumpt 
laugh,  and  took  the  drawing  off  to  show  it  to  his 
wife.  Returning,  he  looked  upon  the  Signor  with 
more  of  deference  than  he  had  been  disposed  to 
show  him  before.  His  countenance  had  something 
of  mingled  wonder  and  delight  as  he  fixed  his  eyes 
on  him  —  some  such  expression  as  a  man  of  the  mid 
dle  ages  might  be  supposed  to  wear  on  his  face  as 
he  gazed  upon  some  imposing  magician  or  sorcerer 
that  had  just  performed  a  wonderful  feat  of  art. 

The  rattlesnake  terror  had  now  altogether  van 
ished.  The  caricature  had  killed  it  effectually  ;  and 
the  conversation  took  another  turn. 

"  Towers,  what  wild  animals  are  there  over  in  the 
wilderness?" 

"Plenty  of  them — bears,  wolves,  panthers,  deer 
in  crowds — some  few  elk,  I  reckon  —  and  otters, 
and  badgers — all  the  animals  that  ever  were  there." 

"  Do  they  ever  attack  you  ?" 

"  Not  unless  they  are  particularly  hungry,  which 
can't  be  at  this  time  of  the  year.  Your  fire  at  night 
will  keep  them  away  from  you,  any  how  ;  though  I 
have  heard  it  said  the  panther  has  been  known  to 
walk  between  a  party  sleeping  and  the  fire  at  their 
feet." 

"That,  I  suspect,  was  a  dream  of  some  one  who 
had  gone  to  sleep  with  the  wild  beasts  running  in 
his  brains." 

"You  have  nothing  to  fear  from  the  animals. 


THE   INVASION   DETERMINED    UPON.  73 

The  only  thing  you  have  to  fear  is  losing  your 
selves.  But  Powell  and  Coriway  are  good  woods 
men  ;  and,  besides,  they  have  been  partly  in  the 
country.  There  is  a  story  about,  which  I  Ve  heard 
ever  since  I've  been  living  up  here,  that  a  good 
many  years  ago  a  stranger  went  into  the  Canaan, 
and  was  never  heard  of  afterward.  Years  after, 
the  skeleton  of  a  man  was  found  by  some  of  the 
hunters  that  had  ventured  furthest  into  the  country." 

"That's  very  pleasant  information  for  us,  Mr. 
Towers.  Do  you  think  there  is  any  chance  of  our 
leaving  our  bones  out  there  ?" 

"Every  man  runs  his  chance." 

"  The  devil  he  does !  Why,  this  Canaan  is  not 
altogether  more  than  some  twenty  or  thirty  miles 
of  country  in  length,  and,  I  suppose,  not  wider. 
How  could  a  man  well  get  lost  in  that  compass  ?" 

"  Oh,  very  easily.  Why,  in  those  mountains  a 
man  could  walk  about  for  a  week,  from  sunrise  till 
sunset,  particularly  if  he  got  into  a  big  laurel-brake, 
and  never  at  any  time  be  five  miles  from  where  he 
started,  unless  he  blazed  his  way." 

Mr.  Botecote  mused  somewhat  seriously  for  a 
while  upon  this  information,  but  finally  came  to  the 
conclusion  that  the  lost  man  and  the  skeleton  was 
a  fable,  and  that  it  was  nonsense  to  talk  about  his 
being  lost  in  any  five  miles  of  country.  This 
seemed  to  be  the  conclusion  of  the  rest  of  us. 
There  is  some  such  legend  always  told  by  the  bor- 


74  THE    BLACKWATEK    CHRONICLE. 

derers  upon  every  wild  country.  But,  again,  such 
things  are  rather  probable.  Men  have  been  lost 
before  in  countries  far  less  wild  than  the  Canaan 
turned  out  to  be.  However,  we  entertained  no 
apprehensions  of  encountering  anything  worse  than 
some  endurable  fatigue  and  hardship;  and  the  con 
versation  passed  off  into  general  pleasantry  and 
merriment,  in  which  the  castellan  of  Winston  came 
in  for  a  pretty  good  share  of  rather  free  raillery, 
aimed  at  those  more  prominent  peculiarities,  which 
the  reader  will  by  this  time  recognise  as  belonging 
to  him. 

Murad  the  Unlucky,  who  had  not  said  a  word  for 
an  hour,  but  sat  with  his  lame  appurtenance  thrown 
over  the  back  of  a  chair,  apparently  drinking  in  the 
conversation  like  mothers'  milk,  now  broke  speech 
to  the  following  effect : — 

"Well,  Mr.  Powers,  I've  just  been  thinking  what 
a  mighty  talker  you  are ;  you  talk  about  like  a 
horse  I  have  at  home  runs.  He  beats  everything 
in  the  whole  country  —  but  you  can't  rely  on  him ; 
he  won't  keep  the  track." 

"  Why,  you  don't  think  so,  indeed !  Devil  take 
my  lights,  I  thought  I  was  slow  !" 

"Don't  you  think  you  stretch  it  a  little,  Con- 
ners?"  said  Murad,  expressing  himself  a  little 
plainer. 

"  Every  word  true,  Mr.  Todd ;  blast  my  eyes ! 
and  more  too ;  I  haven't  told  you  anything." 


THE    INVASION    DETERMINED    UPON.  75 

"  What !  all  that  about  the  rattlesnakes,  and  the 
bears,  and  the  panthers,  and  elk,  and  such  crowds 
of  deer,  and  especially  that  about  finding  the  bones 
of  the  lost  man !  Ugh  !  uh  !"  Here  Murad  mused 
a  moment,  and  went  on.  "Towels,  are  you  any 
relation  to  the  Conners  down  our  way  ?" 

It  must  be  observed  that  Murad,  among  his  other 
unlucky  traits,  had  an  unlucky  way  of  confounding 
the  names  of  all  persons  he  encountered  —  a  vice 
of  his  intellectual  composition  that  nothing  could 
eradicate  ;  and  so  upon  this  occasion,  Towers's  name 
was  mixed  up  in  his  mind  with  Powell's  and  Con- 
way's — the  two  hunters  —  so  inextricably,  that  he 
had  none  of  them  straight. 

"To  the  Conners,  did  you  say,  Mr.  Todd?  The 
Conners !  Devil  take  me,  if  I  ever  heard  of  any 
such  people  !" 

"  Why,  as  you  are  of  the  same  name,  I  thought 
you  might  be  some  kin." 

"  May  the  devil !  —  blamenation  !  —  if  ever  I  saw 
—  Conners  —  my  name  isn't  Conners! 

"  There  you  are,  Trip  —  at  it  again,"  said  Peter, 
who  seemed  to  take  Murad  under  his  especial  su 
pervision.  "I'll  swear,  gentlemen,  he  hasn't 
called  any  single  man,  woman,  child,  or  horse  — 
anything  by  a  right  name,  since  we  left  home. 
Why,  Triptolemus,  Towers's  name  isn't  Towels,  or 
Powels,  or  Conners,  or  anything  of  the  sort.  It's 


76  THE   BLACK  WATEK   CHRONICLE. 

Towers,  Towers,  Towers — T-o-w,  Tow —  e-r-s,  ors 

—  Towers!" 

"  Well,  what's  the  odds  ?"  said  Murad.  « It  don't 
make  any  such  mighty  difference.  But  you're 
some  kin,  a'n't  you,  Powels?" 

"  Well,  I  dare  say  I  am,  if  I  only  knew  distinctly 
which  of  my  relations  you  mean.  But  what  makes 
you  think  so  ?" 

"  Why,  you  talk  so  fast,  and  so  much,  that  you 
remind  me  of  one  Connel,  a  lawyer  down  our  way 

—  a  great  pleader  —  who  can  out  talk  any  man  I 
ever  heard,  until  I  had  the  pleasure  of  making  your 
acquaintance;  has  a  great  gift  of  what  they  call 
the  gab.     You're    a  Virginian  anyhow,  a'n't  you, 
Towels?" 

"  I  don't  know  what  he  is  now,  but  his  ancestors 
came  out  of  Babbleon,"  said  the  artist. 

"  Suffered  under  the  old  Babbleonish  captivity," 
chimed  in  G-alen. 

"From  which  the- race  haven't  yet  been  entirely 
redeemed,"  put  in  the  Master. 

"Well,  that's  pretty  well;  but,  may  the  devil 
take  me,  if  I  don't  think  some  of  Mr.  Todd's  an 
cestors  must  have  come  out  of  the  tower  of  Babel !" 

"Eight,"  said  Peter — "right,  governor.  It's 
the  only  way  of  accounting  for  his  contusion  of 
names.  And  by  the  way,  Trip,  if  you  would  bear 
the  tower  of  Babel  in  mind,  it  might  help  you  to 
get  Towers's  name  right." 


THE    INVASION   DETERMINED   UPON.  77 

"  It  wont  do,"  said  the  artist.  His  mind  is  essen 
tially  a  transposing  one.  He'd  have  it  the  bowei 
of  Table!" 

"  I  give  it  up,  then,"  said  Peter,  and  he  threw 
himself  back  in  his  arm-chair,  with  an  air  of  resig 
nation. 

"  Well,  but,  gentlemen,"  said  the  doctor,  in  his 
very  pleasant,  gentlemanly  manner  —  (Galen  was 
very  deliberate  when  about  anything  like  a  witti 
cism,  and  having  studied  one  out  to  suit  hims'elf, 
some  time  back,  he  was  determined  that  it  should 
not  be  lost,  notwithstanding  the  conversation  that 
made  it  appropriate  had  gotten  away  from  him)  — 
."Well,  but,  gentlemen,"  said  be  blandly,  and  with 
a  certain  tickling  sensation  of  pleasure  upon  his 
countenance,  "  this  is  letting  Mr.  Towers  escape  us. 
When  we  were  running  him  about  Babbleon  just 
now,  and  fixing  upon  him  a  Babbleonish  extraction, 
it  occurred  to  me  there  must  have  been  also  some 
of  the  old  Greek  blood  in  him." 

"How  do  you  make  that  out,  doctor?"  said 
Towers,  smiling. 

"  Why,  by  tracing  your  descent,  Towers,  in  part, 
from  the  very  famous  old  lawgiver  of  Sparta,  Ly- 
curgus." 

"How  is  that?  Who  was  this  Lycurgus?"  said 
the  castellan,  evidently  very  much  flattered  at  the 
idea  of  being  descended  from  any  man  with  a  name 
that  he  didn't  understand. 


78  THE    BLACKWATER    CHRONICLE. 

"He  was  an  old  Greek,  Towers  —  a  Lacedemoni 
an,"  said  the  Prior,  taking  up  the  doctor's  idea  — 
"  an  old  fellow  named  Curgus,  one  of  the  Curguses 
of  Sparta  —  a  very  remarkable  family  of  people. 
But  in  the  course  of  his  life  this  old  gentleman  had 
told  so  many  stories,  about  one  thing  or  another, 
that  by  way  of  distinguishing  him  from  the  other 
Curguses,  the  people  of  his  parts  used  generally  to 
call  him  Curgus,  the  story-teller  or  romancer.  The 
length  of  this  designation,  however,  being  contrary 
to  the  genius  of  the  Spartans,  who  were  a  people 
of  few  words ;  they  shortened  it  by  calling  him 
Lie-Curgus,  which  after  a  while  came  to  be  his  re 
ceived  name." 

"  There  were  a  great  many  other  distinguished 
Greeks  who  acquired  their  names  in  the  same  way," 
observed  the  artist,  "there  are  the  Liesanders." 

"And  Lysemachus — a  condensation  you  per 
ceive,  of  Lies  he  makes  us" 

"The  Greek  genius  is  characterized,  from  the 
earliest  ages,  by  an  aptitude  for  invention." 

"  What  monstrous  fabrications  some  of  those  are 
which  Homer  relates !" 

"  Don't  talk  about  them,"  said  Triptolemus,  "  my 
back  stings  me  every  time  I  think  of  them.  The 
whippings  that  I've  had  on  account  of  them,  are 
really  horrible  to  think  of." 

"  What  were  you  whipped  for,  Mr  Todd  ?" 

"Ignorance  of  Homer,  Mr.  Towels;   undoubted 


THE   INVASION    DETERMINED    UPON.  79 

ignorance,  sir — clear — clear  as  day — not  the  least 
mistake  about  it.  But  my  ignorance  of  that 
difficult  language,  Mr.  Connel  was  owing  to  my 
aversion  to  stories.  Had  Homer  told  the  truth 
about  the  siege  of  Troy,  I  should  have  mastered 
him.  You  see,  Towels,  my  feelings  somehow  or 
other  were  born  on  the  Trojan  side  ;  and  as  soon  as 
I  began  Homer  I  knew  it  was  all  a  Greek  lie  :  you 
may  say,  therefore,  that  I  fell  at  Homer.  But  don't 
distress  yourself  at  this  little  passage  in  my  biogra 
phy  ;  I  can  assure  you  I  haven't  the  same  strong 
feelings  in  regard  to  your  interesting  account  of  the 
Canaan,  although  I  must  say  I  don't  exactly  believe 
all  you  tell  us." 

"May  the  devil  roast  my  lights  and  livers,  gen 
tlemen,  if  I  don't  begin  to  believe  you  really  think 
I  have  been  stretching  it  a  little  about  the  Black- 
water.  Now  do  you  know  I  haven't  told  you  half 
I  could  tell  you.  The  man's  bones  were  found  out 
there  —  I  saw  'em  myself — and  for  the  deer,  they 
are  just  in  thousands  ;  and  as  for  bears,  why  one  of 
'em  had  Andrew  by  the  throat  —  I  mean,  devil  take 
my  lights  —  up  a  tree  down  here  for  an  hour,  one 
day,  not  two  miles  from  this  house  —  yes,  on  Win 
ston —  and  he  shot  him  too  —  didn't  you  Andrew? 
And  if  you  find  a  rattlesnake  out  there,  why,  I'll 
just  give  you  leave  to  eat  me,  lights  and  all.  As 
for  the  elk,  I'll  bring  you  a  man,  living  not  far  from 
here,  who  will  swear  to  you  that  he  saw  one  him- 


80  THE   BLACKWATER   CHRONICLE. 

so  if,  that  was  shot,  not  more  than  three  years  ago. 
jSow  I'll  tell  you  what,  gentlemen,  I'll  take  an  even 
bet  with  any  of  you,  that  you  get  lost  notwithstand 
ing  you've  got  Powell  and  Conway  with  you  —  two 
as  good  woodmen  as  ever  went  into  the  woods." 

"I  don't  care -if  we  do,"  said  the  artist,  "I'll  fish 
in  the  Blackwater  in  spite  of  my  bones." 

"If  all  the  wild  beasts  of  the  wilderness  howl 
around  my  path,  I'll  stand  by  the  Signer's  bones," 
said  the  Prior. 

"  If  I  could  only  feel  certain  about  the  rattle 
snakes,"  said  Peter,  "  it  would  take  off  the  only 
weight  on  my  mind.  But  between  my  boots  and 
the  brandy,  I  will  defy  them." 

"  The  idea  of  driving  a  cow  in  for  the  milk  cure  is 
abandoned,  I  suppose." 

"  Put  up  a  plenty  of  provisions,  Towers.  I  can 
stand  anything  better  than  starvation." 

"  Yes,  gentlemen,  and  if  you  don't  come  back  on 
the  day  you  say,  I'll  get  up  a  party  and  go  in  after 
you." 

"Right  —  right;  but  I  thought  you  were  to  go 
along,  Mr.  Powway." 

"There  you  are  again,  Trip,  its  intolerable  — 
absolutely  ridiculous.  Will  you  never  learn  to  call 
him  Towers !  You  have  no  idea  how  it  disturbs 
the  flow  of  the  conversation." 

"  I  think,  gentlemen,"  said  Galen,  delicately  sug 
gesting  it,  "  that  if  Triptolemus  would  commit  some 


THE    INVASION   DETERMINED   UPON.  SI 

verses  to  memory  that  had  the  word  towers  in 
them,  he  might  possibly  control  this  bias  he  labors 
under." 

"  A  good  idea— try  it,  Trip." 

"  Ugh — uh !"  said  Murad,  with  his  peculiar  ejac 
ulation.  "  There  you're  too  much  for  me  again,  I 
don't  think  I  ever  knew  any  in  my  life." 

"  Well,  then,  gentlemen,  we'll  give  him  some." 

"Begin  —  some  one." 

"  I  will,  willingly,"  said  Peter. 

"'Day  sat  on  Norham's  castled  towers,'" — 

"  Day  didn't,"  said  the  artist,  "  it  set  on  Norham's 
1  castled  steep* — that  won't  do.  Try  it  again." 

"  I  have  a  glimmering  of  a  line  that  ends  with 
hostile  towers — but  I  can't  make  it  out  exactly." 

"  The  gentle  Surrey,"  said  Galen,  and  then  stop 
ped  short. 

"What  of  Surrey?" 

"I  thought  it  was  something  about  towers — but 
it  isn't— it's  '  loved  his  lyre.'  " 

"That's  it— that  will  do,"  said  Trip,  "that  will 
remind  me  of  him — if  you  can  find  nothing  better." 

"There's  a  verse,  gentlemen,"  said  the  Prior, 
"  that  has  something  about  towers  bedight — but  I 
can't  come  at  it.  It  ends  with  temples  and  towers 
ledight.  Do  any  of  you  remember  it  ?" 

"Towers  bedight! — Towers  be  d d! — Lets 

go  to  supper,"  said  the  artist.  And  to  supper  we 
4* 


82  THE   BLACK  WATER    CHRONICLE. 

went — Towers  bedight  or  Towers  be- what  you 
please,  leading  the  way,  and  altogether  delighted 
at  the  prominent  figure  he  cut  in  the  evening's 
conversation. 

The  supper  had  a  subduing  effect  upon  the  viva 
city  of  our  spirits  ;  and  so,  with  a  due  regard  to  the 
Blackwater  invasion  on  the  morrow,  we  retired 
early  to  bed.  The  bright  clear  moon  looked  in  aus 
picious  through  the  curtains  of  our  windows — and 
to  the  gentle  lullaby  of  the  Allegany  night-breeze 
we  fell  fast  asleep. 


THE   DALE    ON   THE   POTOMAC.  83 


CHAPTEK   VII. 

THE   DALE    ON   THE    POTOMAC  —  AND  A  SOMEWHAT   PAR 
TICULAR   DESCRIPTION    OF   THE   ARRAY. 

IT  was  somewhere  about  four  o'clock  next  morn 
ing  when  we  began  to  give  out  in  sleeping  ;  and  so, 
lightly  and  airily,  with  gentle  breathings,  whisper- 
ingly,  we  now  soon  finished  off  the  last  delicate 
touches  and  roundings  of  our  dreams  about  bears, 
and  panthers,  and  rattlesnakes,  and  lost  babes  in 
the  woods  (meaning  thereby  ourselves),  &c.,  &c., 
just  as  the  early  cock  uplifted  his  clear  clarion, 
and  roused  his  dame  Pertelotte  and  all  the  attendant 
damsels  of  the  roost  from  their  slumbers. 

How  finely  our  old  first  poet — he  who 

"  left  half  told 
The  story  of  Cambuscan  bold," 

— famous  Chaucer — head  of  the  English  poet  peer 
age  —  has  pictured  the  gallant  chanticleer : — 

"His  comb  was  redder  than  the  fine  corall, 
Embattled  as  it  were  a  castel  wall; 
His  bill  was  black,  and  as  the  jet  it  shone, 
Like  azure  were  his  legges  and  his  tone, 
His  nails  were  whiter  than  the  lily  flower, 
And  like  the  burned  gold  was  his  colour." 


84:  THE   BLACKWATER   CHRONICLE. 

And  how,  with  the  soul  of  eloquence  and  poetry 
he  makes  him  discourse  —  hear  again  : — 

"He  knew  by  kind,  and  by  none  other  lore, 
That  it  was  prime,  and  crew  with  blisful  steven, 
The  soune.  he  said,  is  olomben  up  on  heven, 
Twenty  degrees  and  on,  and  more  ywis; 
Madam  Fertelotte,  my  worlde's  blis, 
Herkeneth  the  blisful  birddes  how  they  sing, 
And  see  the  fresh  flowers  how  they  spring; 
Ful  is  mine  harte  of  revel  and  solas." 

And  again  ;  what  a  lordly  coze'ner  is  our  chanti 
cleer —  what  handsome  flattery  of  his  dame  —  and 
with  what  pleasant  humor  he  trifles  with  the  sex. 

"But  let  us  speak  of  mirthe,  and  stinte  all  this, 
Of  o  thing  God  has  sent  me  large  grace, 
For  when  I  see  the  beauty  of  your  face, 
Ye  ben  so  scarlet  red  about  your  even, 
It  maketh  all  my  drede  for  to  dien : 
For  all  so  sicker  as,  in  principio 
Jfulifr  est  hominis  in  confusio, 
(Madam,  the  sentence  of  this  Latin  is, 
Woman  is  man's  jov  and  man's  blis.)" 

And  then  how  like  a  prince  —  royal  in  his  port, 
and  gallant  is  he  —  very  much  after  the  model  of 
Henry  IV.  of  France,  when  in  the  midst  of  hi$ 
dames. 

"  He  loketh  as  it  were  a  grim  leonn, 
And  on  his  toos  he  rometh  up  and  down : 
Him  deigned  not  to  set  his  feet  to  ground : 
He  chukketh  when  he  hath  a  corn  yfound, 
And  to  him  rennen  then  his  wives  alle," 


THE   DALE   ON   THE    POTOMAC.  85 

The  reader  is  now  aware,  that  some  time  since, 
the  early  cock  had  proclaimed  the  morning.  In 
the  beautiful  verse  of  Chatterton  — 

"The  feathered  songster  chanticleer, 
Had  wound  his  bugle-horn, 
And  told  the  early  mountaineer 
The  coming  of  the  morn." 

It  is  now  broad  day,  and  the  ruddy  streaks  are 
beginning  to  glimmer  in  the  east.  Up  rise  we,  then, 
one  and  all,  and  shout  aloud,  "  For  the  Blackwater !" 
The  doors  and  windows  are  thrown  wide  open,  and 
the  mountain  atmosphere  — three  thousand  feet  here 
above  the  sea— is  all  about  us;  and  if  you  have 
never  tried  it,  O  unblessed  lowlander !  you  can  have 
no  idea  of  its  extremely  animating  powers :  there 
are  few  things  more  stirring  to  both  body  and  soul. 
It  compels  to  many  extravagances  of  both  speech 
and  action.  Especially  it  makes  you  sing,  whether 
you  can  or  not :  and  so  it  was  that,  chanting  songs 
of  the  morning,  we  made  our  orisons  to  the  god  of  day, 
Phoebus  Apollo,  now  emerging  in  all-unutterable 
glory  through  the  golden  portals  of  the  east: 

"  Thou  splendid  luminary  !  honored,  in  some  form 
or  other,  by  all  the  nations  of  old  ;  proclaimed  prince 
of  the  lights  of  heaven  throughout  all  the  realms  of 
Christendom  ;  worshipped  by  the  barbarian,  wonder 
of  the  savage ;  saluted  in  thy  rising  with  the  clash 
of  cymbals  and  gongs,  and  the  flourish  of  trumpets 
and  horns,  the  roll  of  drums,  and  the  roar  of  morn- 


86  THE    BLACKWATEK    CHRONICLE. 

ing  guns;  man  everywhere  doing  thee  homage  — 
in  the  old  East,  prostrate  with  slavish  adoration ; 
here  in  the  new  West,  standing  erect  (as  I  do  now), 
and  with  dilated  chest,  pouring  out  his  soul  in 
hymns  of  praise,  as  befits  his  free-born  nature!  — 
Great  God-send  of  all  mankind !  particularly  of  all 
poets  and  orators  ;  filling  the  world  with  the  grand 
est  of  the  grandeurs  of  simile,  and  trope,  and  meta 
phor  ;  also  at  the  same  time  usefully  beneficent  in 
imparting  both  light  and  heat,  without  which  this 
earth  would  be  about  as  dark  and  cold  as  a  rat-hole, 
and  almost  as  fit  to  live  in — really  the  dim  spot 
that  a  disconsolate  philosophy  would  make  it  out 
to  be  !  —  Beneficent  and  beautiful  mystery  !  such  as 
thou  art  here  in  thy  rising  over  these  broken  and 
piled-up  Alleganies ;  lighting  up  the  grand  counte 
nance  of  Nature  around,  as  with  the  smile  and  the 
glory  of  a  god !  no  wonder  that  all  languages  and 
tongues,  even  from  the  Chaldee  down  to  our  mod- 
ernest  Brother-Jonathan  dialects,  should  be  exhaust 
ed  in  the  utterance  of  such  a  worship."  —  ("Good- 
morning,  Mr.  Towers.  You  seem  to  be  in  consid 
erable  astonishment.  Take  a  seat.  The  expedition, 
through  Mr.  Butcut,  is  addressing  the  great  lumi 
nary,  whose  gorgeous  rising  we  take  to  be  a  happy 
omen  for  our  enterprise.")  —  "  Fountain  of  light  and 
life !  — hailed  by  the  choir  of  birds  ;  encircled  by 
clouds  of  gold ;  fair  as  a  bride  and  fiery  as  a  bride 
groom  !  ih-ee,  to  resemble — thee! — that  was  the 


THE    DALE    ON    THE    POTOMAC.  87 

very  boy's  first  wish  and  proud  desire,  through  every 
vicissitude  of  fortune,  amid  the  glitter  of  prosperity, 
above  the  tempests  of  mischance,  to  maintain  an 
undecaying  splendor !" 

After  this  address  to  the  rising  Splendor — part 
of  which  was  made  once  before  by  Alcibiades  when 
a  banished  man  in  Thrace  at  the  court  of  King 
Seuthes  —  where,  it  will  be  remembered  by  the 
learned  reader,  he  outdrank  the  whole  barbarian 
court  —  the  king,  queen,  princes,  courtiers,  warriors, 
ladies-in-waiting,  and  all  —  thus  fulfilling  his  match 
less  destiny — peerless  in  everything,  even  in  these 
wild  Thracian  orgies  —  after  this  address  to  the  great 
luminary,  we  speedily  arrayed  ourselves,  and  forth 
with  appeared  below-stairs,  as  respectable  and  pic 
turesque  a  set  of  outlaws  in  appearance  as  ever 
robbed  a  rich  grandee  of  his  gold,  plundered  mon 
astery  or  cathedral  of  old  of  its  molten  gold  and  sil 
ver,  or  bore  away  shrieking  maiden  to  the  hidden 
fastness  in  the  forest. 

It  was  in  this  order  that  we  began  our  march : 
Three  of  us  were  on  horseback,  with  wallets  hung 
across  our  saddles,  containing  the  provant  for  the 
expedition  —  which  provision  consisted  of  six  large 
loaves  of  bread ;  some  pounds  of  ground  coffee ; 
sugar;  about  ten  pounds  of  middling  of  bacon,  to 
fry  our  trout  with  ;  a  boiled  ham  ;  salt,  pepper — 
and  that's  about  all.  Cigars  and  tobacco  to  smoke, 
each  adventurer  carried  about  his  own  person,  to- 


88  THE    BLACKWATEK    CHRONICLE. 

getlier  with  a  flask  of  spirits  to  cure  himself  in  case 
lie  was  bitten  by  a  rattlesnake,  or  perad venture  to 
prepare  his  system  beforehand  against  any  delete 
rious  effects  from  the  bite  —  a  somewhat  unnecessa 
ry  precaution,  indeed,  since  we  wrere  all  pretty  well 
convinced  there  were  no  snakes  in  the  Canaan. 

Three  of  us  were  afoot  — two  of  our  original  pnrty 
and  Powell,  one  of  the  hunters — he  equipped,  among 
other  things,  with  his  rifle  ;  Conway,  the  other  hunt 
er,  we  were  to  pick  up  on  the  way. 

We  were  to  ride  and  walk  alternately — ride  and 
tie — until  we  reached  the  end  of  the  settlements, 
which  was  as  far  as  we  could  take  the  horses. 

Pursuing  the  Northwestern  road  some  three  miles, 
we  reached  the  top  of  the  Backbone  ridge.  Here, 
turning  at  right-angles  to  the  left,  we  followed  a 
mountain-road  along  the  top  of  the  ridge  for  some 
miles,  which  at  length  took  its  course  along  the 
eastern  side  of  the  mountain,  gradually  growing  into 
a  mere  single  horse-track,  until  wre  reached  Con- 
way's  house,  the  last  settlement  in  this  direction. 
Here  we  picked  up  Conway,  with  his  rifle  and  fry 
ing-pan  ;  and  after  a  walk  of  some  six  miles  or  more 
through  a  most  noble  forest  of  sugar-trees,  the  beech, 
maple,  wild-cherry,  balsam-firs,  and  hemlocks,  and 
over  tracts  of  land  wonderfully  fertile,  judging  by 
the  great  size  of  the  trees,  and  the  growth  of  the 
wild  timothy  upon  one  or  two  slight  clearings  we 
passed  through,  we  at  length  descended  into  a  beau- 


THE   DALE   ON    THE    POTOMAC.  89 

tiful  little  glade  —  more  properly  a  dale  in  the  mount 
ains —  some  three  hundred  yards  wide  and  two  or 
three  miles  long,  where  we  were  to  turn  out  our 
horses  to  pasture  until  our  return. 


This  dale  is  girt  round  upon  its  edges  by  a  broad 
belt  of  the  Rhododendron  —  commonly  called  the 
big  laurel  out  here  —  which  makes  the  dale  a  safe 
enclosure  for  keeping  our  horses ;  for  it  is  impossi 
ble  that  a  horse  can  make  his  way  through  it,  so 
thick  and  lapped  together  everywhere  are  its  branch 
es.  We  had  to  enter  it  by  a  path  cut  out  for  the 
purpose.  When  within,  we  barricaded  the  entrance 
by  piling  up  some  young  trees  and  brushwood 
(which  was  equivalent  to  putting  up  the  bars  in  a 


90  THE   BLACKWATEK    CHRONICLE. 

fenced  field),  and  rode  on  down  the  middle  of  the 
wild  meadow,  through  green  grass,  knee-high,  and 
waving  gently  in  the  summer  wind,  until  we  reached 
a  small  stream,  whose  banks  were  overgrown  with 
osiers  and  other  delicate  shrubs.  This  was  the  infant 
Potomac,  destined  before  it  reached  the  sea  to  expand 
into  that  mighty  river  on  whose  broad  bosom  whole 
navies  may  ride  in  safety  or  "  flame  in  battle ;"  and 
also  famous  all  over  Christendom  for  that  it  holds 
fast-founded  by  its  shores  the  capital  of  the  star- 
emblazoned  republic.  Here  we  halted  and  dis 
mounted —  took  oif  saddles  and  bridles  —  turned 
our  horses  loose  —  and  prepared  ourselves  to  enter 
the  untrodden  wild  that  rose  up  before  us,  dark 
with  the  glimmer  and  the  gloom  of  the  immemorial 
woods ! 

Before  the  expedition  moves,  it  is  necessary  that 
we  should  enter  into  a  few  particulars  descriptive 
of  the  adventurers  in  the  new  aspect  in  which  we 
are  about  to  present  them  to  the  reader. 

Behold,  then,  at  about  one  o'clock  in  the  day, 
the  knights-errant  of  the  Blackwater,  in  the  middle 
of  this  little  grassy  dale  of  the  Potomac.  Let  us 
point  them  out  to  the  reader  by  name,  and  in  a  gen 
eral  way  by  character. 

First,  there  stands  before  you  a  slight,  elastic, 
and  somewhat  gaunt  gentleman,  with  a  dark,  con 
centrated  eye,  sunk  deep  beneath  a  marked  ariS. 
rugged  brow.  The  expression  of  his  face  at  pres- 


THE    DALE   ON   THE    POTOMAC.  91 

ent  is  particularly  indicative  of  that  sort  of  energy 
and  determination  of  character,  which  is  very  apt 
to  make  its  possessor  what  is  vulgarly  called 
head-devil  in  all  matters  of  feud,  foray,  or  what 
ever  enterprises  that  might  be  classed  under  the 
designation  of  marauding  —  all  dare-devil  achieve 
ments.  The  imagination  of  the  wilderness  before 
him,  has  called  into  play  these  latent  qualities  of 
his  nature.  This  gentleman  wears  a  beard,  after 
the  fashion  of  the  middle  ages,  that  has  held  undis 
turbed  possession  of  his  lower  face  for  now  some 
fifteen  years ;  with  all  his  present  surroundings,  it 
gives  him  the  look  of  a  brigand  as  in  a  picture; 
meet  him  in  the  streets  of  a  capital,  and  it  would 
impress  you  with  the  idea  that  he  was  a  practition 
er  of  astrology,  or  some  other  occult  matter  —  may 
be  some  Italian  philanthropist,  or  revolutionary 
conspirator  —  the  friend  of  liberty  all  over  the 
world,  wherever  liberty  had  a  market :  his  disdain 
of  a  feather  and  all  melo-drarnatic  show  of  appear 
ance,  precludes  any  idea  of  the  Hungarian,  as  re 
cently  impressed  upon  our  minds.  He  wears  a 
green  cloth  cap,  with  a  straight,  projecting  square 
visor  to  it,  like  the  European  military  caps.  An 
old  black  coat,  with  gray  pantaloons,  and  a  pair  of 
rough  boots  with  large  red  tops  —  these  drawn  on 
outside  complete  his  dress.  He  has  no  small  wal 
let  strapped  to  his  back  — a  blanket  and  a  great 
coat  rolled  up  constitute  it.  Around  his  neck  is 


92  THE    BLACKWATER    CHRONICLE. 

suspended  an  artist's  sketch-book.  In  his  right 
hand  is  a  frying-pan.  This  is  our  artist,  the  Signer 
Andante  Strozzi.  Of  course,  he  is  of  the  illustrious 
Florentine  family  of  that  name,  some  one  of  his 
ancestors  having  escaped  from  the  feuds  and  broils 
of  Italy,  some  centuries  ago,  and  taken  refuge  on 
these  shores.  The  name  has  changed  so  much  in 
the  course  of  time,  and  one  thing  and  another,  here 
with  us,  that  you  would  hardly  recognise  it,  as  it  is 
spelt  and  pronounced  now  in  these  days  of  demo 
cratic  disdain  of  all  things  appertaining  to  a  man's 
name  and  lineage.  We,  however,  his  more  learned 
friends,  and  not  too  extreme  in  our  democracy, 
choose  to  call  him,  according  to  the  old  Italian  spel 
ling  and  sound  —  Strozzi.  There  is  a  Dutch  family 
in  Pennsylvania,  the  Strodes,  who  are  disposed  to 
trace  their  origin  in  the  same  way  from  the  Strozzi ; 
but  this  they  have  no  right  to  do.  The  Strodes  are 
Teutonic  in  their  descent ;  they  are  the  old  Saxon 
—  the  undoubted  High  Dutch  :  Stride  was  the  name 
originally.  The  Strides,  Striders,  Strodes,  and  all 
these,  are  of  German  extraction,  and  in  fact  the 
same  people  originally.  -Our  friend  is  the  true 
Strozzi,  however ;  and  he  shows  his  Italian  origin 
by  the  peculiar  beard  he  wears,  his  love  of  and  ge 
nius  for  the  arts  (particularly  those  of  painting  and 
music),  and  some  slight  brigandish  characteristics 
that  belong  to  him,  which  last  make  him  a  some 
what  dangerous  antagonist  for  man  or  beast  to  dally 


THE   DALE   ON   THE    POTOMAC.  93 

with,  and  therefore  one  in  every  way  the  very  per 
son  for  an  expedition  into  the  Canaan  —  a  man  who 
\vould  laugh  a  bea*in  the  face,  and  take  particular 
pleasure  in  pitching  into  a  panther ;  one  who  would 
be  about  as  careless  of  consequences  in  any  encoun 
ter  as  either  of  these  two  last-named  gentlemen ! 
So  much  for  the  Signor  Andante  Strozzi. 

That  stout,  thick-set,  well-knit  gentleman,  whose 
manner  is  somewhat  eager,  with  face  in  a  glow, 
eye  red,  and  mouth  open  —  look  at  him!  He  is 
laboring  at  present  under  an  undue  quantity  of  ex 
citement.  The  idea  of  the  wilderness  has  electrified 
his  system  into  intense  sensation.  His  ideas  are 
exaggerated  out  of  all  bounds.  He  has  just  finished 
strapping  on  his  shoulders  an  immense  wallet,  big 
enough  for  a  mule  to  carry.  But  he  looks  stout, 
and  broad,  and  strong — is  well  made  —  and  you 
think  it  is  all  right,  and  that  he  has  generously 
loaded  himself  according  to  his  greater  power. 
"Well,  he'll  be  tested  presently.  This  is  the  gentle 
man  who  had  the  pleasant  conversation  with  Tow 
ers  yesterday,  on  the  porch,  about  the  rattlesnakes. 
He  wears  an  old  brown  sack-coat.  His  boots  are 
drawn  on  outside  his  pantaloons,  and  they  are  very 
big,  and  stout,  and  rough,  and  reach  up  to  his 
knees  :  he  bought  them  as  a  special  defence  against 
the  rattlesnake.  On  his  head  he  has  a  broad- 
brimmed,  black,  slouch  hat.  On  his  shoulders  he 
has  the  aforesaid  large  roll.  In  his  right  hand  he 


94:  THE    BLACKWATER    CHRONICLE. 

has  a  stick  of  laurel,  with  portions  of  the  root  at 
tached,  and  which  is  as  tall  as  himself.  Tied  to  his 
waist  behind  is  a  bit  of  sheepskin  with  the  wool  on 
it,  that  he  may  have  something  soft  to  sit  down 
upon  when  he  rests  himself  in  the  wilderness.  You 
perceive  he  goes  in  for  the  conveniences  of  life.  On 
the  whole  survey  of  this  gentleman,  you  would  say 
that  he  was  the  make  and  look  of  a  man  to  lift  or 
carry  a  heavy  weight,  or  to  pull  up  a  sapling  by  its 
roots  —  to  hit  a  hard  blow ;  good  at  knocking  down 
and  dragging  out;  but  not  the  best  show  of  a  man 
for  a  hard  walk,  or  climbing  mountains,  or  getting 
well  through  a  halt-mile  brake  of  the  rhododendron. 
This  is  Mr.  Butcut. 

That  thin,  sinewy,  hard,  tough-looking  gentleman, 
resting  himself  upon  his  sound  leg,  which  is  his  left, 
and  a-tiptoe  on  his  right,  which  is  his  broken  one, 
shortened  and  stiffened  at  the  knee,  is  Mr.  Triptole- 
mus  Todd — our  Murad  the  Unlucky.  In  consider 
ation  of  his  lameness,  it  has  been  decreed  that  he 
shall  carry  no  burden ;  yet  of  his  own  accord  he 
has  mounted  Powell's  rifle,  the  muzzle  of  which  he 
has  pointed  right  in  among  us ;  but,  as  he  is  un 
doubtedly  the  most  heedless  man  in  the  United 
States,  we  have  taken  care  that  there  shall  be  no 
priming  in  the  pan.  This  remarkable  gentleman's 
mind  has  been,  somehow  or  other,  impressed  with 
an  extraordinary  idea  of  the  wonderful  and  amazing 
in  regard  to  the  Fairfax  stone,  and  he  is  now  look- 


THE   DALE   ON   THE    POTOMAC.  95 

ing  away  off  up  the  dale,  as  far  as  possible,  to  see 
if  he  can't  discover  it.  He  has  a  confused  idea  in 
his  mind  that  this  Fairfax  stone  is  the  biggest  thing 
of  its  sort  in  the  state  of  Virginia ;  but  he  has  no 
definite  idea  about  it :  it  may  be  like  the  rock  of 
Gibraltar,  or  the  rock  of  ages  ;  it  may  be  a  basaltic 
pillar,  like  Lot's  wife,  or  it  may  be  a  great,  huge 
tablet,  upon  which  some  boundary  hieroglyphics 
have  been  carved.  Of  course,  therefore,  he  has  no 
very  definite  idea  of  the  sort  of  thing  he's  looking 
for.  Just  at  this  moment  something  vague  looms 
up  before  his  intent  gaze  into  the  distance,  and  his 
face  is  all  ablaze  with  excitement  as  he  exclaims, 
stretching  his  long,  sinewy  arm  far  before  him,  with 
his  fingers  spread  out,  and  all  pointing  different 
ways  —  "Fellows,  yonder' s  Fairfax's  stone  /"  Mu- 
rad  is  a  light,  wiry  man,  of  some  five  feet  ten 
inches  in  stature ;  and,  without  going  into  particu 
lars,  we  will  only  say  of  him  that  he  has  a  look  of 
exposure  about  him,  as  if  the  heavens  —  cold  and 
hot — the  suns  of  August  and  the  snows  of  Decem 
ber —  had  been  contending  for  him  for  many  years, 
with  such  equal  success,  that  neither  of  them  had 
been  able  to  take  him  entirely.  His  dress  is  a  very 
indifferent  one.  It  is  torn  in  several  places  already  ; 
and  the  fear  is  that  before  we  get  back  he  will  have 
none  of  it,  and  that  we  shall  have  to  paint  him,  or 
rather  stain  him  with  the  juice  of  berries,  to  pre- 


96  THE   BLACKWATEB   CHRONICLE. 

serve  him  from  absolute  exposure — fix  him  up  like 
Prince  Yortigern  — 

"  A  painted  vest  Prince  Vortigern  had  on, 
Which  from  a  naked  Pict  his  sire  had  won  !" 

To  tell  the  whole  truth  in  regard  to  Murad,  there 
never  was  a  man  that  went  upon  an  expedition  of 
any  sort  with  so  little  preparation  and  under  such 
unlucky  circumstances.  He  had  but  one  suit  of 
woollen  clothes  with  him,  all  the  rest  being  light 
summer  linens,  of  no  use  here.  His  pocket-book, 
with  some  bank-notes  in  it,  he  left  behind  upon  his 
table,  and  had  only  a  small  purse  with  some  six  or 
seven  dollars  of  silver  in  it.  He  had  a  note  in  bank 
for  a  thousand  dollars,  due  three  days  after  he  left 
home,  and  for  which  he  had  made  no  provision ; 
and,  in  the  hurry  of  shaving  himself  to  get  off  in 
time,  he  had  cut  a  great  gash  in  his  cheek,  which 
gave  him  a  look  as  of  a  sabre-cut  received  years 
ago  at  some  such  battle  as  Borodino  or  Waterloo, 
or  on  Pompey's  side  at  Pharsalia,  where  Caesar's 
veterans  aimed  at  the  face. — But  enough  of  Mr. 
Todd :  the  reader  will  now  be  able  to  picture  him 
sufficiently  well  for  the  purposes  of  this  narrative. 

The  next  gentleman  that  we  shall  introduce  is 
Doctor  Adolphus  Blandy.  You  see  him  there  over 
on  the  other  side  of  this  little  rivulet,  the  Potomac, 
in  the  act  of  taking  an  affectionate  leave  of  that 
powerful  dapple-gray  with  the  bobbed  tail.  He 


THE    DALE   ON    THE    POTOMAC.  97 

has  just  imprinted  a  kiss  upon  the  soft  muzzle  of 
the  gray.  His  gentle  heart  is  touched  that  Rinaldo 
has  to  be  committed  to  the  rude  mercy  of  the  wild 
beasts  of  Canaan  for  so  many  days  ;  and  with  a  tear 
of  repentance  that  he  brought  him  here,  and  a  sigh 
of  regret  that  he  has  to  leave  him,  has  made  his 
farewells — half  in  fear  he  shall  never  see  Rinaldo 
again  this  side  of  horse-heaven.  The  doctor  is  a 
very  dainty  gentleman,  and  given  much  to  personal 
elegance  of  life.  He  is  equipped  at  all  points.  His 
large  boots  come  fully  up  to  the  knee,  and  they  are 
soft  and  pliable,  made  of  the  best  French  leather. 
His  doublet-coat  is  substantial,  with  many  conveni 
ent  pockets,  and  fits  him  comfortably.  He  has  a 
quarter-dollar  rough  straw-hat,  tied  round  with  a 
red  riband  in  a  good  bow-knot.  As  he  is  near 
sighted,  he  wears  a  pair  of  gold  spectacles.  Blandy 
is  a  large,  fine-looking  man,  and  he  is  of  an  easy 
and  gracious  presence.  There  is  a  sort  of  disdain 
about  him  of  the  big  wallet  that  he  has  strapped  to 
his  shoulders ;  he  seems  to  feel  that  it  should  be 
borne  by  a  menial.  He  has  evidently  been  trained 
to  a  life  of  luxurious  ease — like  Dives,  has  been 
clothed  in  purple  and  fine  linen,  and  fed  daily  upon 
dainties.  Ennuied  with  indulgence,  he  has  come 
into  the  wilderness,  to  purchase,  at  the  expense  of 
its  hardships,  a  new  zest  to  his  existence  —  a  zest 
which  the  fortune  of  his  condition  can  not  other 
wise  afford  him. — But  enough  of  Blandy.  Let  us 

5 


98  THE    BLACKWATEK    CHRONICLE. 

picture  to  you  another  gentleman,  —  remarkable 
among  the  sons  of  men  —  also  among  their  daugh 
ters. 

There,  off  at  the  edge  of  the  vale,  at  the  foot  of  a 
branching  tree,  stands  one  who  is  no  bad  idea  of  the 
famous  knight  of  La  Mancha,  if  you  would  only 
suppose  the  immortal  Don  to  have  been  not  quite 
so  raw-boned  as  history  has  recorded  him.  This 
gentleman  is  somewhat  tall,  and  of  a  loose  and 
dangling  aspect,  in  keeping  with  the  somewhat  care 
less  ease  of  his  character.  To  look  at  him  now,  as 
he  stands,  you  would  suppose  him  in  the  act  of  pro 
pitiating  the  god  of  the  wilderness  with  votive  offer 
ings  ;  for  he  has  just  finished  hanging  up  on  the 
lowermost  branches  of  that  beautiful  and  fairest 
tree  all  the  saddles  and  bridles,  and  other  horse- 
equipments,  rowelled  spurs  and  whips,  &c. ;  and 
with  his  large  and  lustrous  eye  ("  heaven-eyed  crea 
ture,"  as  Wordsworth  calls  Coleridge)  resting  in 
pleasure  upon  the  picturesque  grouping  he  has  ef 
fected  of  them,  you  easily  imagine  him  some  deep 
enthusiast  of  the  forest,  hanging  his  votive  offerings 
upon  the  wilderness-god's  shrine.  Lingering  he 
stops,  absorbed  in  what  he  has  done ;  then  turns 
slowly  away,  and  having  reached  the  party  in  the 
middle  of  the  dale,  he  exclaims  earnestly,  "Well, 
gentlemen,  I  don't  think  the  wild  beasts  can  eat  up 
our  saddles  and  bridles,  spurs  and  whips,  any  how 
— no  matter  what  they  may  accomplish  upon  our 


THE    DALE    ON    THE    POTOMAC.  99 

horses  !"  This  gentleman  is  Mr.  Guy  Philips — the 
County  Guy — the  Prior — but  more  properly  the 
Master  of  St.  Philips,  for  St.  Philips  is  the  name  of 
his  hold,  where  he  keeps  the  world  at  bay.  He  is 
somewhat  tall  and  delicate  of  form,  of  a  high  visage 
and  a  lofty  carriage — and,  as  we  have  said,  taking 
away  the  idea  of  the  gaunt  appearance  of  Don  Quix- 
otte,  is  not  very  unlike  that  immortal  champion  of 
the  right  and  redresser  of  the  wrong.  The  Master 
is  a  man  of  middle  life,  and  has  seen  something  of 
both  man  and  woman  in  his  time,  both  high  and 
low.  In  many  a  gay  and  glittering  scene  of  revelry 
has  he  wasted  the  golden  days  of  his  exuberant 
youth  —  his  heart  swelling  to  the  sounding  minstrel- 
sey,  and  his  soul  entranced  by  love  and  beauty. 
And  also,  like  the  good  Lord  Clifford,  he  has  been 

"  In  huts  where  poor  men  lie" — 

and  there  learned  a  wiser  lore  than  life  could  other 
wise  teach  him.  The  Master  has  long  since  learned 
much  sound  knowledge  in  his  time  —  that  pleasure 
is  of  the  things  that  perish  in  the  using  —  that  wo 
man's  looks  teach  but  folly  —  that  there  is  a  great 
deal  of  good  sense  in  the  Proverbs  of  Solomon,  and 
wisdom  in  the  Ecclesiastes,  &c.,  &c. ;  in  fact,  he 
has  begun  to  know  that  Solomon  was  a  very  wise 
man :  and,  arriving  at  this  distant  glimpse  of  truth, 
he  has  taken  to  the  woods  and  rills,  and  has  learned 
how  to  be  reasonably  happy.  But  what  would  she, 


100  THE   BLACKWATER   CHRONICLE. 

the  beautiful  Mary  Dale,  think  of  him  could  she 
see  him  now — he  who  ere  while  basked  in  the  sun 
shine  of 

"Her  eyes'  blue  languish,  and  her  golden  hair!" — 

could  she  see  him  now,  his  whole  countenance  shed 
ding  rays  of  joy  in  every  direction,  like  a  golden 
aureola  on  an  angel's  brow,  as  he  puts  his  hand  to 
his  mouth  and  sounds  a  loud  and  prolonged  bugle- 
call  from  out  the  midst  of  this  lovely  dale,  while  all 
the  mountains  round  cry  out  responsive  with  their 
thousand  voices!  "Alas,  poor  Guy!"  she  would 
say,  "  I  little  thought  when  surrounded  by  mirrors 
that  multiplied  our  image,  in  rooms  gorgeously  fes 
tooned  with  hangings  of  burnished  gold  and  silver, 
and  reclining  on  conches  softer  than  the  bed  of  roses 
the  emperor  Yerus  dreamed  himself  away  on  —  I 
little  thought  that  you,  then  stealthily  playing  with 
the  tangles  of  my  hair,  and  openly  fettered  by 
my  eye,  would  ever  come  to  such  wild  destiny  as 
this !" 

The  reader  may  now  picture  to  himself  our  two 
guides,  the  hunters  Powell  and  Conway,  and  he  has 
the  party  complete  —  Powell  a  thin,  sinewy,  and 
yet  muscular  man,  with  long,  straight  locks  falling 
down  from  his  head  like  strands  of  rope  ;  with  a  pil 
low-case  thrown  over  his  shoulders,  in  which  was 
our  provision :  and  Conway  a  short,  wiry,  stringy, 
thick-set  little  structure  of  whipcord,  equipped  in 


THE  DALE  ON  THE  POTOMAC.         101 

like  manner  as  Powell  —  each  with  his  rifle  and 
pouch. 

But  we  are  dallying  too  long  here  in  the  dale  — 
we  must  up  and  away !  Let  us  begin  the  march, 
however,  in  another  chapter. 


102 


THE    BLACKWATER    CHRONICLE. 


'      .    -       i\ 


CHAPTEE  VIII. 

THE    MARCH    INTO   THE   CANAAN. 

POWELL  is  in  the  lead  followed  by  Conway,  and 
we  all  start  with  a  shout  upon  our  walk — jumping 
the  baby  Potomac  with  a  bound,  and  falling  into  a 
line  of  single  file  —  winding  through  the  long  grass 
by  a  track  made  by  the  deer  coming  down  into  the 
dale  to  drink.  The  Signor  waved  his  frying-pan 
aloft,  and  shouted  out  gayly  the  burden  of  some  old 
hurrah  song.  The  Master  doubled  up  his  hand  and 
blew  upon  it  for  a  buglet.  Peter  capered  along 


THE    MARCH    INTO    THE    CANAAN.  103 

nimbly,  in  dancing  measure,  like  a  fairy  on  the 
green  — big  wallet  and  all.  Trip  threw  out  his 
game  leg,  sweeping  it  against  the  tall  grass,  as  a 
mower  sweeps  his  scythe.  And  the  Doctor  took  his 
last  lingering  look  of  Einaldo  —  waved  his  lily  hand 
and  sighed  adieu  — 

"Adieu,  for  evermore,  my  love, 

'-  •     And  adieu,  for  evermore  1" 

The  horses  snorted  and  plunged  around  us,  with 
their  tails  flung  over  their  backs,  and  hovered 
along  our  line,  until  we  came  to  the  belt  of  laurel 
that  girts  the  edge  of  the  meadow,  when  they 
wheeled,  and  left  us  to  our  fate  —  and  we  them  to 
theirs.  In  a  few  moments  we  were  breaking  our 
way  through  the  thick  tangled  branches  of  the 
laurel,  and  in  mud  and  water  half  up  to  our  knees. 
But  we  fought  the  way  gallantly,  and,  gaining  the 
firm  ground,  began  the  ascent  of  the  mountain  by 
a  winding  deer-track  — the  same  we  had  followed 
through  the  dale. 

About  half  a  mile  up  we  halted  by  the  little  Elk- 
lick —  a  deep  and  wood-embosomed  gouge  —  as  the 
hunters  called  it — in  the  side  of  the  mountain,  filled 
with  black  marsh-ooze,  in  which  were  little  pools  of 
stagnant,  saltish  water.  Here  the  boldest  held  his 
breath  for  awhile,  in  expectation  of  getting  a  shot  at 
a  deer.  But  whatever  chance  there  might  have  been 
for  this,  it  was  soon  destroyed  by  the  loud  outcries 
of  Mr.  Butcut,  who  was  yet  some  distance  down  the 


104  THE   BLACKWATER   CHRONICLE. 

mountain.  Presently  that  gentleman  came  up,  with 
his  face  about  the  color  of  a  full-blown  peony,  the 
perspiration  rolling  down  from  him,  and  blowing 
hard  like  an  over-driven  horse.  "  Oh  !  I'll  be  - 
if  I  can  stand  this,"  he  gasped  out  vehemently. 
"  By  the  Apostle  Paul !  gentlemen" — (Peter  is  very 
familiar  with  Shakspeare,  and  is  the  best  amateur 
actor  of  high  tragedy  in  our  country  to-day ;  had 
he  gone  on  the  stage  early  in  life,  he  would  have 
undoubtedly  acquired  an  unsurpassed  name  in  our 
theatrical  annals)—"  By  the  Apostle  Paul !  gentle 
men,"  he  exclaimed  in  a  manner  unconsciously 
tragic,  "  this  mountain  has  cast  more  terror  into  the 
soul  of  Kichard  than  he  can  well  endure."  And  re 
lapsing  immediately  into  the  commonplace,  he  went 
on.  "  And  don't  you  all  know  well  enough,  gentle 
men,  that  I'm  rather  thick-winded  at  best,  and  here 
you  have  fairly  run  away  from  me  up  this  infernal, 
all-fired  hill,  as  you  call  it— hill  indeed  !  Powell, 
how  far  are  we  from  the  top  ?" 

"Not  more  than  a  mile  or  so,  I  reckon,  Mr. 
Butcut." 

"A  mile  or  so!  There  it  is — I  knew  it  would 
be  this  way.  Fellows,  let's  turn  back."  This  he 
said  bigly.  It  was  received  with  a  burst  of  derision. 
"  Let  me  make  a  proposition.  If  you  turn  back  I'll 
agree  to  pay  all  the  expenses  of  the  expedition, 
from  home  and  back." 

"  Fiddle-de-de  !"  said  one. 


THE  MARCH  INTO  THE  CANAAN.        105 

"  Devil  take  you  and  all  expenses  of  all  sorts !" 
said  another. 

"Not  for  your  whole  estate,  in  fee  simple !"  said 
a  third. 

"  ~No  money  can  buy  us  I"  said  Triptolemus. 

"  Hear  me,  gentlemen,"  said  Mr.  Butcut,  entreat- 
ingly,  "  of  course  I  had  no  idea  that  the  money 
could  influence  you.  I  didn't  mean  that.  I'll  give 
the  money  to  any  charity  you  may  designate.  And 
Powell  and  Conway,  I'll  give  you  five  dollars  more 
than  you  were  to  get." 

"  ISTot  so !"  said  the  artist,  "  you  shall  do  no  such 
thing !" 

"  We  don't  want  anything  more  than  was  agreed 
upon !"  said  both  Powell  and  Conway. 

"Ugh,  uh!"  said  Triptolemus.  "You  advised 
me  not  to  come,  did  you !" 

"  You'll  get  along  better,  Peter,  after  the  first 
blow  or  two !" 

"The  acquirit  vires  eundo,  will  apply  to  you 
after  awhile,  But,  don't  entertain  any  despair !" 

"  I  can't  stand  it,  gentlemen,  I  tell  you,  and  carry 
this  load  on  my  back  —  I'm  no  horse  !" 

It  will  be  perceived  by  the  reader,  that  Mr.  But- 
cut  made  a  very  determined  attempt  to  break  up 
the  expedition,  here  at  the  Elk-lick,  but  all  to  no 
avail.  His  mutinous  designs  were  promptly  crushed 
in  the  bud.  It  being  clear  that  nothing  was  to  be 


106  THE   BLACKWATER,   CHRONICLE. 

gained  in  this  way,  he  was  determined  that  ho 
would  get  rid  of  his  burden. 

"  Well,  gentlemen,"  he  said,  laughing,  "  I  confess 
that  I've  failed  in  my  vigorous  effort  to  turn  you 
back:  that's  no  go,  certainly: — of  course  I  wasn't 
in  earnest.  But  really,  seriously  speaking,  I'm  no 
horse,  and  can't  carry  all  this  load." 

"  What's  a  blanket  and  a  great-coat  to  a  stout 
man  like  you,  two  feet  and  a  half  at  least  over  the 
shoulders  ?" 

"  If  you  think  it's  nothing,  suppose  you  just  feel 
it."  Here  he  unstrapped  his  wallet,  and  handed  it 
round  for  inspection.  It  was,  in  fact,  a  great  deal 
heavier  than  any  of  us  had  imagined,  large  as  it 
looked.  So  it  was  determined  that  he  must  be 
lightened  of  his  load.  Accordingly  the  wallet  was 
unrolled — and  no  wonder  it  was  so  heavy;  for 
instead  of  containing  merely  a  single  blanket  and 
a  great-coat,  the  blanket  was  found  to  be  a  large 
new  double  one,  and  in  addition  to  this,  there  was 
an  old,  thick- wadded  coverlet  of  a  bed,  commonly 
called  a  Yankee-blanket,  that  had  been  used  as  a 
saddle-blanket,  until  it  had  grown  doubly  heavy 
from  the  grease  and  perspiration  it  had  accumulated 
in  a  long  horseback  service.  Peter,  very  provident 
of  his  creature  comforts,  with  the  intention  of  being 
extra  luxurious  when  in  camp  at  night,  had  very 
quietly,  and  unknown  to  the  party,  secured  this 
treasure  to  his  own  use.  It  was  really,  therefore, 


THE  MARCH  INTO  THE  CANAAN.        107 

no  such  great  wonder  that  the  first  half-mile  of  the 
Backbone  had  been  too  much  for  him.  Such  a 
mountain  is  a  pretty  stiff  encounter  for  a  man  of  no 
superfluous  flesh,  and  the  soundest  lungs — and  so 
the  lightest  of  us  found  it ;  but  a  thick-set,  stout- 
built,  two  hundred  pounder  of  a  gentleman,  yet  in 
the  soft  condition,  and  with  not  the  best  breathing 
apparatus  in  the  world — a  butcut  like  But,  will 
attest  the  quality  of  his  metal,  whenever  he  at 
tempts  to  match  himself  against  the  Bone  of  the 
Alleganies,  and  that,  too,  even  though  he  has  not 
a  heavy-wadded  blanket  additional  in  his  wallet. 

The  reader  will  understand  now,  that  the  only 
thing  really  the  matter  with  Mr.  Botecote,  was  that 
he  had  overloaded  himself,  as  was  intimated  when  we 
were  down  in  the  dale  of  the  Potomac.  So,  hanging 
the  discountenanced  encumbrance  upon  a  limb  of 
the  nearest  tree,  he  took  heart  again,  and  once  more 
grew  animated  with  all  the  hope  of  the  Blackwater. 

"  Come,  move  on,  men,"  he  exclaimed,  as  he 
strapped  on  his  shoulder  his  now  diminished  bur 
den.  "  This  is  something  like.  I  can  stand  it  now 
with  any  of  you.  Move  on,  Powell." 

And  the  expedition  moved  again.  It  was  hard 
work  in  good  earnest.  But  we  went  on  up  the 
rugged  steep,  scrambling  our  way  as  best  we  could, 
now  through  the  thick  underwood,  now  in  among 
great  masses  of  rock,  and  over  fallen  trees  so  de 
composed  that  they  would  not  bear  your  weight, 


108  THE    BLACKWATEK    CHRONICLE. 

until  we  reached  what  seemed  to  be  the  top  of  the 
mountain.  Here  those  who  were  foremost  called  a 
halt,  and  sat  down  to  rest  upon  a  mossy  log  that 
imbedded  you  for  about  a  foot.  The  others  came 
straggling  in  —  Triptolemus  falling  in,  with  his  arms 
spread  out  before  him,  and  his  lame  leg  out  in  the 
air  behind,  as  though  it  didn't  belong  to  him,  and 
crying  out  as  he  pitched  in,  "I  say,  fellows,  is  this 
Fairfax's  stone  ?  Ugh  —  uh !  Here  I  am  !" 

"  Fairfax's  stone !"  said  Peter,  getting  it  out  as 
his  breath  would  allow.  "  Fairfax  wouldn't  have 
climbed  this  hill  for  all  the  six  millions  and  a  half 
acres  of  his  inheritance.  I  take  it  he  was  a  man  of 
too  much  sense.  Heavens  —  but  I'm  nearly  gone! 
How  far  are  we  from  the  horses,  Powell  ?" 

"  About  two  miles,  I  take  it.  Its  about  two  miles, 
Conaway,  up  to  here  ?  Yes  — so  I  thought." 

"  Come,  move  on,  men.  There  must  be  no  muti 
nous  conversation  indulged  in.  Peter's  for  a  revolt 
again,  I  see,"  said  the  Signor. 

Peter  was  now  rested,  and  he  resented  the  impu 
tation  with  many  valorous  words. 

"  No,  gentlemen,  no  such  trifle  as  this  wilderness 
shall  prevent  me  from  fishing  in  the  Blackwater ! 
It  isn't  more  than  two  or  three  miles  off,  Powell,  is 
it?  And  down  hill,  you  say,  from  here?" 

"  We  are  over  the  worst  of  it  now,  Mr.  Butcut," 
said  Powell. 

"Move  on  men — move  on   men,"  said   Peter, 


THE  MARCH  INTO  THE  CANAAN.        109 

"but  don't  go  too  fast— I'm  afraid  Mr.  Todd  can't 
keep  up  with  us." 

"Ugh  —  uh !  Never  mind  me,  1  can  get  along 
with  any  of  you."  And  here  Trip  pitched  over  a 
rock  and  disappeared  (his  game  leg  last)  into  a 
thicket,  laughing  out  his  ugh  —  uh  !  and  presently 
he  came  into  line  again,  as  if  nothing  had  occurred 
more  than  he  looked  for. 

The  wilderness  was  growing  wilder.  "We  had, 
some  time  since,  lost  all  trace  of  anything  like  even 
a  deer-path.  Still,  pleasantly,  and  in  fine  spirits, 
we  pursued  our  way.  Now  we  had  to  climb  some 
steep  hill-side,  clinging  to  the  undergrowth  to  pull 
ourselves  up,  and  now  we  would  come  up  against 
a  barrier  of  fallen  trees  —  some  of  them  six  feet  high 
as  they  lay  along  the  ground,  and  coated  with  moss 
half  a  foot  thick  —  some  so  decomposed  that  they 
recreated  themselves  in  the  young  hemlocks  and 
firs  that  grew  up  out  of  them  —  some  more  recently 
fallen,  with  great  mounds  of  earth  and  stone  heaved 
up  with  their  roots ;  these  mounds  sometimes  cov 
ered  over  by  other  trees  thrown  across  them,  and 
thus  affording  shelter  to  the  wild  animals  from  the 
snows  and  storms  of  winter.  Over  all  these  we 
would  climb  and  roll  ourselves  across ;  and  some 
times,  such  obstruction  did  they  present  to  our 
course,  we  would  be  obliged  to  make  a  detour 
round  for  the  length  of  a  quarter  of  a  mile  may  be, 
and  find  ourselves  only  advanced  a  hundred  paces 


110  THE    BLACK  WATER    CHKONICLE. 

on  the  straight  line  of  our  route.  It  was  thns  we 
went  along  —  up-hill  and  down  —  now  along  the 
side  of  a  rib  of  the  mountain — now  over  its  cone, 
and  now  along  it — down  through  deep  ravines  and 
up  out  of  them,  and  scarcely  able  at  any  time  to 
see  further  ahead  than  some  twenty  yards,  so  thick 
were  the  leaves  about  us ;  and  not  often  able  to 
catch  a  glimpse  of  the  sun,  so  dense  was  the  mass 
of  foliage  umbrellaed  out  everywhere  above  us. 
Still  there  was  a  great  wild  delight  in  it  all ;  and 
by  this  time  we  had  become  somewhat  inured  to 
the  work ;  we  were  beginning  to  improve  in  con 
dition,  and  we  felt  our  sinews  and  muscles  coming 
into  better  play  every  step  we  took. 

After  awhile,  thus  pursuing  our  steady  advance, 
we  came  to  a  small  rivulet,  trickling  its  way  down 
a  shallow  ravine,  and  evidently  making  its  course 
to  the  west.  This  was  a  little  rill  that  sent  forth  its 
mite,  high  up  in  these  loftiest  regions,  to  form  the 
waters  of  the  Cheat  river;  the  Cheat  falling  into 
the  Monongahela  —  the  Monongahela  into  the  Ohio 
—  the  Ohio  into  the  Mississippi  —  and  so  to  the 
great  Atlantic  reservoir.  It  was  clear,  now,  that 
we  were  on  the  other  side  of  the  Backbone. 

"This  water,  gentlemen,"  said  Powell,  "is  ma 
king  for  the  Blackwater.  We  are  across  the  Bone." 

"  How  far  now,  Powell,  before  we  reach  the 
falls?"  asked  Peter. 

u  Well,  I  reckon  about  four  miles  — maybe." 


THE  MARCH  INTO  THE  CANAAN.        Ill 

"  Four  miles !  It  can't  be.  It's  no  such  thing. 
"Why,  Mr.  Powell,  didn't  you  say  distinctly,  that  it 
was  but  four  miles  altogether  from- the  place  we 
left  the  horses." 

"Oh,  no  —  I  didn't  say  that!  I  told  you,  we 
could  bring  the  horses  along  to  within  about 
four  miles  of  the  falls  —  over  to  another  glade, 
which  we  will  come  to  before  long." 

"I'm  deceived,  gentlemen.  We  have  all  been 
deceived  by  these  men.  Conway  is  this  the  case 
that  Powell  says  ?" 

"Powell  knows  the  country  better  than  I  do. 
He's  nearly  right,  I  guess.  I  should  suppose  now, 
we  are  about  four  miles  away." 

"  Gentlemen,  hold  on  —  stop,"  said  Peter,  "I've 
a  proposition  to  make." 

"  You  had  better  not  be  left  behind,"  said  the 
Signor,  "you  might  get  lost  out  here.  Keep  up 
with  the  line." 

On  we  went,  increasing  our  pace  a  little,  for  the 
day  was  hying  westward ;  and  if  we  intended  to 
reach  the  Blackwater  by  nightfall,*  there  was  no 
time  to  waste. 

"  This  is  intolerable  !"  said  Peter.  "  It's  all  non 
sense —  not  a  particle  of  sense  it.  I  say  —  hold  on, 
I've  a  proposition  to  make." 

"  I  don't  think  we  are  treating  him  right,"  said 
the  Doctor,  a  little  tired  himself.  "  It  isn't  fair — he 


112  THE   BLACKWATER   CHRONICLE. 

might  be  suffering.     We  ought  to  halt,  and  hear 
what  he  has  to  say." 

As  Peter's  voice  was  strong  —  altogether  unim 
paired,  there  was  a  rather  general  impression  that 
there  was  a  good  deal  of  good  walking  in  him  yet. 
But  we  halted  and  threw  ourselves  down  upon  the 
moss. 

"What's  the  proposition?  Let's  have  it  while 
we  are  resting — for  there's  no  time  to  lose." 

"  Well,  gentlemen,  its  strikes  me  we  ought  to 
encamp." 

This  was  met  with  a  general  dissent. 

"It's  my  opinion  we  are  lost,"  continued  Peter, 
"  decidedly  lost.  These  men  have  deceived  us. 
They  start  out  by  telling  us  that  its  only  four  miles 
from  where  we  left  our  horses  to  the  Blackwater. 
Well,  we  left  them  at  one  o'clock,  and  it's  now  five 
by  my  watch.  We've  been  four  hours  in  coming 
here  —  and  I'm  nearly  dead  at  that!  Now  they 
tell  us  they've  got  yet  more  than  four  miles  to  go ! 
I  don't  believe J;hey  know  themselves  where  we  are. 
I  believe  we  are  lost,  and  that  we  are  walking 
about  here  for  nothing.  Powell,  tell  me,  didn't 
you  say  just  now  that  this  little  rivulet  was  one  of 
the  sources  of  the  Blackwater?" 

"Yes  — and  I  think  so  still,  Mr.  Butcut." 

"Only  think  so!  There  it  is,  gentlemen.  He 
don't  know  where  he  is.  I  don't  believe  we  are 
near  the  Blackwater." 


THE  MARCH  INTO  THE  CANAAN.        113 

"  Nor  I  either,"  said  Triptolemus,  who  grew  un 
easy  at  the  idea  of  being  lost' — 'remembering  the 
story  of  the  lost  man,  and  the  bones  that  were  found 
out  here.  "  If  I  could  have  seen  Fairfax's  stone,  I 
might  have  had  some  confidence.  How  can  this 
little  stream  make  the  Black  water,  when  it's  as 
white  and  clear  as  any  water  we  have  seen  ?" 

"  Yes,  Murad's  got  it !     How  can  it  be,  Powell  ?" 

"  Well,  gentlemen,  it's  no  use  talking.  I  am  in 
the  right  direction.  Don't  you  say  so,  Conaway  ?" 

"Yes,  I  do." 

"  Well,  that's  all,"  continued  Powell,  a  little  miffed 
for  the  moment,  "  that  I  can  do  for  you.  There  a'n't 
any  fingerboards  out  here  to  point  out  the  way. 
All  I  can  do  for  you  is,  to  take  a  general  direction 
right,  and  I  know  I  must  hit  the  Blackwater  some 
where —  a  mile  or  two  higher  up,  or  lower  down." 

"  But  we've  been  four  hours  getting  here,  and 
have  come  but  four  miles,  you  think  ;  and  have  four 
more  to  go,  you  say !" 

"  Well,  no  man  need  expect  to  see  the  falls  of  the 
Blackwater  without  some  sharp  walking.  A  mile 
or  a  mile  and  a  half  an  hour,  in  a  straight  line — 
which  would  make  two  or  three,  twisting  about  as 
we  have  to  go — is  about  as  much  as  we  can  make 
out  here.  I  could  have  brought  you  a  straighter 
course — down  through  the  big  laurel,  you  know, 
Conaway — but  if  ever  you  once  got  into  that,  we 
know  you  would  be  glad  enough  to  be  out  again ! 


THE    BLACKWATEK    CHRONICLE. 

—  and  so  we  have  been  trying  to  head  the  laurel  as 
much  as  possible." 

"  Right,  men. — you  are  right,"  said  the  Signer. 

"  I  am  not  so  entirely  certain,"  responded  Adol- 
phus,  "  but  we  must  abide  our  fate  now." 

"Eight— all  right." 

"  I  withdraw  what  I  said,  men,"  observed  Peter, 
it  just  occurring  to  him  that  if  the  guides  should 
take  it  into  their  heads  to  leave  us,  we  would  be  in 
rather  a  bad  way.  "I  was  very  much  heated  just 
now,  and  a  good  deal  blown — that's  the  truth  ;  and 
the  mind,  you  know,  Powell,  will  take  the  hue  and 
tone  of  the  feelings.  This  little  rest  has  put  it  all 
right,  though." 

"  Handsomely  done,  and  philosophically  account 
ed  for." 

"Move  on,  Powell — it's  all  right!" 

The  Signor  waved  his  frying-pan  encouragingly, 
and  the  Master  blew  away  upon  his  hand-bugle. 
With  restored  spirit,  the  expedition  once  more 
dashed  along  through  the  forest.  Up  started  three 
or  four  deer  from  the  bushes,  and,  showing  the  un 
derside  white  of  their  tails  as  they  threw  them  over 
their  backs,  with  a  leap  and  a  bound  they  were  lost 
in  the  forest.  Murad  ran  after  them  a  little  way 
out  of  the  line,  and  pitching  down  presently  over 
some  rough  ground,  his  lame  leg  up  in  the  air,  he 
laughed  out  his  "Ugh  —  uh!"  and  gave  up  the 
chase,  saying,  as  he  fell  into  line  again — 


THE  MAKCH  INTO  THE  CANAAN.        115 

"  They  are  monstrous  swift.  How  the  fury  they 
get  over  the  rough  ground  so  fast,  I  can't  see !" 

"They  were  born  so,"  replied  old  Con  way. 

"It's  a  gift  to  them,"  said  Powell.  "Every  ani 
mal  has  his  gift.  It's  their  protection.  The  bear 
climbs,  and  the  deer  runs." 

The  hunters  discoursing  their  lore  of  the  forest, 
we  came  down  to  the  edge  of  some  swampy  ground, 
and  found  ourselves  in  front  of  a  wide  stretch  of 
laurel,  tangled  and  thick  everywhere  around.  To 
cross  it  —  as  it  was  clear  it  could  not  be  avoided  in 
any  way  —  the  hunters  looked  about  for  the  best 
place  to  go  in.  At  length,  finding  a  spot  that  bid 
the  fairest,  they  made  their  way  into  the  brake,  and 
desperately  after  them  we  all  followed,  as  best  we 
could.  Such  pulling  and  tugging  —  such  twisting, 
plunging,  breaking,  crashing,  and  tearing — 

"I  never  remember  ever  to  have  heard" — 

or  seen.  Here  was  one  held  fast  by  his  wallet,  and 
twisting  about  like  an  eel  to  get  himself  loose  ;  there 
another  who  had  got  upon  a  huge  fallen  tree  —  thus 
avoiding  the  laurel  by  walking  along  its  surface  as 
far  as  it  reached  through  the  swamp ;  but  it  was  so 
decomposed,  that  presently  he  sank  into  it  up  to  his 
arms  —  and  he  was  stuck.  Here  another  who  had 
reached  a  stream,  walking  in  it  as  far  as  in  its  wind 
ings  it  kept  a  course  that  corresponded  with  our 
direction.  There  one  grown  entirely  desperate,  and 


116 


THE    BLACKWATEB    CHRONICLE. 


endeavoring  to  break  his  way  through  by  main 
strength.  The  hunters  took  it  more  knowingly,  and 
would  search  about  for  the  thinnest  places  —  some 
times  going  back  upon  their  tracks  when  they  would 
get  into  a  very  thick  part  of  the  brake,  and  trying 
it  another  way. 


"'  -W^isilv^r:       -->  "  i.-7    f    'A 


To  tell  how  at  last  we  all  did  get  out,  overtaxes 
any  powers  of  description  that  I  possess.  Peter  suc 
ceeded  eventually,  and  threw  himself  down  on  the 
ground  entirely  exhausted,  murmuring  something 
about  the  other  side  of  Jordan,  and  the  laurel  be 
ing  a  hard  road  to  travel.  The  Prior  came  ashore 
with  his  big  knife  open  in  his  hand,  having  at  length, 
— like  Wit  in  Moore's  song — "  cut  his  bright  way 
through."  How  Triptolemus  got  through  has  never 


THE   MARCH    INTO    THE    CANAAN.  117 

yet  been  fairly  ascertained ;  but  it  is  believed  by 
the  whole  expedition  that  he  fell  through  the  most 
of  the  way  —  for  whenever  we  had  any  glimpse  of 
him,  his  head  was  down  and  his  feet  up.  Somehow 
or  other  the  passage  was  successfully  accomplished  ; 
and,  after  resting  sufficiently,  we  took  up  the  line 
of  march,  with  a  unanimous  request  of  the  guides 
that  they  would  avoid  all  the  laurel  that  it  was 
possible,  by  any  skill  of  their  woodcraft,  to  get 
round. 

"  And  this  is  the  beautiful  rhododendron,  Adol- 
phus,  that  you  and  I  have  been  trying  so  hard  to 
grow,"  said  the  Master. 

"  I'll  pull  it  all  up  as  soon  as  I  get  home,"  replied 
Galen  spitefully  —  "  if,  indeed,  I  shall  ever  see  that 
blessed  spot  again." 

"  No  —  I'll  now  have  a  thicket  of  it  at  the  Priory, 
if  it  is  only  that  I  may  be  able  to  demonstrate,  when 
I  grow  old,  the  miracles  I  shall  recount  of  this  ex 
pedition." 

"A  good  idea,"  said  the  artist.  "I'll  make  a 
grand  national  painting  of  it,  and  call  it  '  The  Pas 
sage  of  the  Laurel.'" 

"And  hang  it  up  by  Leutze's  'Passage  of  the 
Delaware.' " 

"  Couldn't  you  put  Fairfax's  stone  somewhere  in 
the  picture?"  inquired  Trip. 

"  Oh,  certainly,"  returned  the  Signor,  "  and  draw 
you,  Trip,  pitching  into  it !" 


118  THE   BLACKWATER   CHRONICLE. 

"  Have  Butcut  stuck  up  to  his  shoulders  in  a  de 
composed  hemlock,  and  a  bear  after  him !" 

"  A  rattlesnake,  too !" 

"  A  panther  or  so  !" 

"And  some  owls  about!" 

"I'll  try  and  do  the  subject  justice,  gentlemen," 
replied  the  Signer.  "  No  historical  feature  shall  be 
left  out." 

Thus  commenting  on  the  passage  of  the  laurel, 
we  moved  on ;  and  after  a  while,  descending  a  long 
hillside,  we  came  to  the  head  of  a  glade,  through 
which  a  stream  of  some  size  ran — its  waters  of  a 
light-chocolate  hue.  "We  were  very  much  jaded  by 
this  time  ;  and  so  we  threw  ourselves  down  upon  the 
soft,  beautiful  grass,  knee-high  everywhere  around, 
and  for  half  an  hour  enjoyed  such  grateful  rest  as 
seldom  comes  to  the  sons  and  daughters  of  men 
who  stay  in  civilized  regions  ;  it  recompensed  even 
the  laurel,  so  exquisite  was  the  rest,  and  so  gorgeous 
the  bower  where  we  took  it ! 

«'  And  then  he  said,  '  How  sweet  it  were 
A  fisher  or  a  hunter  here, 

A  gardener  in  the  shade, 
Still  wand'ring  with  an  easy  rnind 
To  build  a  household  fire,  and  find 

A  home  in  every  glade  ! 

" '  What  days  and  what  sweet  years!  — Ah  me! 
Our  life  were  life  indeed,  with  thee 

So  passed  in  quiet  bliss, 
And  all  the  while,'  said  he,  'to  know 
That  we  were  in  a  world  of  wo, 

On  such  an  earth  as  this!' 


THE  MARCH  INTO  THE  CANAAN.        119 

"And  then  he  sometimes  interwove 
Fond  thoughts  about  a  father's  love : 

'For  there,'  said  he,  'are  spun 
Around  the  heart  such  tender  ties, 
That  our  own  children  to  our  eyes 
Are  dearer  than  the  sun. 

"  'Sweet  Ruth !  and  could  you  go  with  me, 
My  helpmate  in  the  woods  to  be, 

Our  camp  at  night  to  rear  — 
Or  run,  my  own  adopted  bride, 
A  sylvan  huntress  at  my  side, 
And  drive  the  flying  deer!' 

"'Beloved  Ruth!'" 

Such  thoughts  filled  the  teeming  brain  of  the  Prior, 
as  he  lay  half  sleeping  in  the  beautiful  glade.  —  But 
we  can  not  follow  him  in  his  dreams  of  wild  bliss ; 
for  we  must  go  into  another  chapter,  and  bivouac 
for  the  night. 


120  THE   BLAOKWATER    CHRONICLE. 


OHAPTEE   IX. 

THE    LODGE   IN   THE   WILDERNESS. 

WHILE  yet  the  sun  in  his  westward  journey  had 
but  about  an  hour  to  go,  before  he  left  the  Canaan 
to  darkness  and  the  expedition — not  to  mention  the 
bears  and  owls,  &c.,  about  —  a  snake  stole  into  our 
bower,  and  disturbed  the  heavenly  repose  of  the 
glade.  A  very  harmless,  inoffensive  little  grass- 
snake — polished  and  slippery,  disturbed  by  the 
rolling  about  of  some  one  of  the  party,  wound  itself 
along  swiftly  over  one  of  the  extended  arms  of 
Doctor  Blandy,  as  he  lay  sprawled  out  upon  his 
back — gazing  up  into  the  heavens,  and  dreaming 
dreams  of  the  balmy  summer's  eve.  Galen  sprang 
to  his  feet,  and  jumped  some  ten  paces  off  into  the 
meadow.  Whereupon  we  all  did  the  same.  It  was 
a  rattlesnake  at  least  to  our  startled  imagination ! — 
until  we  saw,  to  our  shame,  that  it  was  not.  Being 
on  our  feet,  however,  the  word  was  given  to  take 
up  the  line  of  march  again  —  and  off  we  went: 
the  guides  being  of  opinion,  that  by  crossing  the 
ridge  before  us,  we  would  come  upon  the  Blackwater 
by  night. 


THE    LODGE   IN   THE   WILDERNESS.  121 

We  made  our  way  out  of  the  glade,  encountering 
but  a  small  strip  of  laurel ;  and  once  more  filed 
into  the  dense  wild  forest.  As  we  advanced  we 
grew  more  and  more  silent.  We  were  evidently 
beginning  to  flag  in  spirit.  It  was  our  first  day, 
and  we  were  not  yet  inured  to  the  toil.  Every 
now  and  then  some  startled  deer  would  give  a  little 
life  to  the  party — but  it  would  not  last,  mid  we 
trudged  along  almost  noiseless  over  the  mossy 
ground.  Instead  of  the  country's  giving  indication 
of  our  being  near  a  stream  such  as  the  Blackwater, 
it  was  growing  more  hilly  and  broken  ever  since 
we  left  the  glade.  The  shades  of  evening  too,  were 
fast  closing  in  upon  us.  Something  was  wrong — 
we  ought  certainly  to  have  reached  the  Blackwater 
before  this.  The  hunters  were  evidently  in  doubt 
about  their  course,  and  they  now  held  frequent  con 
sultations  with  each  other.  They  had  told  us  before 
we  set  off  from  the  dale  of  the  Potomac,  that  they 
would  certainly  take  us  to  our  destination  by  night, 
and  they  were  anxious  to  accomplish  their  purpose  ; 
they  feared  their  skill  as  guides  would  be  called  in 
question  if  they  failed  in  what  they  had  been  so 
certain  of  accomplishing.  It  was  now  near  sun 
down,  and  we  were  hemmed  in,  on  all  sides,  by 
mountains.  The  impression  that  we  were  really 
lost  was  uppermost  in  the  minds  of  all  of  us;  and 
presently  we  held  a  general  council — the  result  of 
which  was,  that  if  we  did  not  come  to  some  indica- 

6 


122  THE    BLACKWATER   CHRONICLE. 

tion  of  the  Blackwater,  wlien  we  crossed  the  next 
ridge,  we  would  encamp  for  the  night. 

Crossing  over  this  ridge,  everything  looked  as 
before.  It  was  all  the  same  rugged,  dense,  dark, 
deep,  grand  gloom  of  mountainous  forest  that  we 
had  left  behind  us  —  no  appearance  of  laurel  —  the 
sure  harbinger  of  water ;  no  such  sloping  down  of 
the  hills  anywhere,  as  looked  like  the  descent  into 
a  valley,  such  as  a  stream  of  any  size  would  find  its 
way  through ;  and  above  all,  listen  as  intently  as 
we  might,  no  sound  of  a  waterfall  (such  as  we  were 
assured  would  greet  our  ears  from  the  river  we 
sought)  was  mingled  with  the  song  of  the  evening 
wind.  Therefore  there  was  but  one  voice  in  the  gen 
eral  assembly  of  the  expedition  —  and  that  was  to 
halt  for  the  night,  and  take  counsel  of  to-morrow's 
sun  as  to  our  direction.  Finding  a  little  trickling 
rill  in  the  bed  of  a  rugged  ravine  close  at  hand,  we 
resolved  upon  taking  up  our  abode  by  its  waters 
for  the  night.  Accordingly  the  most  appropriate 
spot  we  could  find  was  selected ;  and,  throwing 
down  our  burdens  in  a  pile,  we  commenced  the 
construction  of  a  camp,  with  a  great  deal  of  busy 
bustle.  As  the  reader  unacquainted  with  the  ways 
of  a  wilderness  life,  may  take  some  interest  in 
knowing  how  this  was  done,  we  will  enter,  for  his 
benefit,  into  the  particulars. 

In  the  first  place,  then,  the  hunters  set  to  work 
and  gathered  together  a  number  of  dried  logs  and 


THE    LODGE    IN    THE   WILDERNESS.  123 

limbs  of  trees,  that  they  found  scattered  about  the 
forest,  making  a  pile  some  ten  or  twelve  feet  long, 
and  three  or  four  feet  high.  They  then  picked  out 
the  driest  bark  and  branches  of  pine  they  could 
find,  and  laid  them  about  through  the  pile.  Next 
they  raised  some  fire  by  striking  sparks  from  the 
flints  of  their  rifles  into  tow,  and  carefully  applying 
this  to  the  pine  bark  and  other  combustible  wood 
they  had  gathered ;  it  was  not  long  before  we  had 
our  wood-pile  in  a  blaze — which  was  soon  in 
creased  into  a  spreading  and  swelling  flame,  by  the 
young  hemlocks  and  fir  trees  that  we  were  busily 
engaged  for  some  time  in  cutting  down  and  throw 
ing  upon  the  pile. 

While  a  part  of  the  force  were  engaged  in  this 
work,  others  were  busy  in  arranging  the  camp. 
The  ground  was  cleared  away  in  front  of  the  fire, 
and  this  place  was  covered  over  with  the  softest 
branches  of  hemlock  that  we  could  gather — two 
of  the  party  being  out  cutting  for  the  purpose.  A 
large  log  was  brought  and  laid  along  the  back  of 
the  camp,  and  this  was  covered  over  to  the  height 
of  two  or  three  feet  with  hemlock  and  fir  branches, 
serving  as  a  sort  of  wall  to  protect  us  from  any 
intrusion  from  that  side,  of  beasts,  or  what  not,  that 
might  be  disposed  to  invade  us  during  the  night. 
The  camp  was  so  arranged,  that  when  we  slept,  our 
heads  would  be  against  this  barrier,  and  our  feet  to 
the  fire.  The  sides  also  were  filled  up  between  the 


12-i  THE    BLACKWATER    CHRONICLE. 

trees  with  brandies.  When  it  was  all  completed, 
we  had  a  tenement  —  a  lodge  in  the  wilderness  — 
the  ground  floor  of  which  was  hemlock  branches  a 
foot  deep,  three  sides,  also,  hemlock  and  fir,  and 
the  fourth  side  a  wood-pile,  twelve  feet  long,  four 
feet  high,  and  all  afire.  And  the  roof  above  us : — • 

"Tis  the  blue  vault  of  heaven,  with  its  crescent  so  pale, 
And  all  its  bright  spangles — quoth  Allen-a-Dale  1" 

and  where  will  you  find  a  grander  in  a  king's  palace. 

Our  rifles,  bags  of  provisions,  coffee-pot,  tin-cups, 
and  frying-pan  —  all  we  had,  were  safely  deposited 
in  one  corner  of  the  lodge.  The  wallets  were  un 
rolled,  and  the  blankets,  great  coats,  &c.,  &c. — 
including  the  knives  and  pistols,  were  thrown  out 
for  use.  Having  cut  down  as  many  small  trees  as 
would  serve  to  keep  the  fire  going  for  the  night,  we 
now  assembled  in  the  camp,  and  commenced  prep 
arations  for  supper,  for  which  we  were  by  this 
time  about  as  ravenous  as  the  beasts  of  a  menagerie 
about  feeding  time.  The  bread,  biscuits,  and  cold 
ham,  were  brought  forth.  The  sugar  was  untied. 
Con  way  sat  about  preparing  the  coffee :  Powell 
started  the  frying-pan  on  the  hot  embers,  and  soon 
had  it  hissing  and  crackling  with  the  slices  of  fat 
middling  of  bacon  with  which  he  filled  it ;  until  at 
length  the  more  delicate  aroma  of  the  hemlock  was 
lost  to  our  noses,  in  the  ascendency  of  the  bacon-side. 

Those  of  us  who  were  not  engaged  in  these  en 
ticing  preparations,  were  lying  about  on  the  hem- 


THE  LODGE  IN  THE  WILDERNESS.        125 

lock,  enjoying  ourselves  in  the  abandonment  of 
forest  undress  —  that  is,  in  our  stocking  feet,  with 
ungirded  vest,  unsuspendered ;  and  spread  out 
around,  in  all  the  various  attitudes  that  it  was  pos 
sible  for  a  set  of  tired  men  to  stretch  themselves  in. 
At  length  the  supper  was  announced  as  ready  — 
and  then  it  was  devoured.  To  say  that  it  was 
merely  eaten  up,  would  be  a  preposterous  defama 
tion  of  any  ideas  of  eating,  such  as  the  word  gen 
erally  conveys  in  civilized  life.  In  an  exceeding 
short  space  of  time,  of  all  the  liberal  preparation, 
there  were,  at  all  events,  no  visible  evidences  re 
maining —  except  the  table-service  —  the  tin  and 
the  iron.  It  was  as  if  a  set  of  jugglers  had  suddenly 
juggled  it  out  of  sight — caused  it  all  to  evanish. 
It  convinced  my  mind  more  thoroughly  than  any 
thing  I  have  witnessed  in  my  somewhat  varied  life 
—  that  man  is,  by  nature,  a  wild  beast.  Reduce 
him  into  his  original  elements  —  take  off  all  this 
varnish,  this  overlarding  of  civilization — put  him 
out  in  the  Canaan  here  for  about  a  month,  and 
what  beast  is  there  of  the  wild  that  will  out-raven 
him  !  Poetry,  philosophy,  arts,  and  science  —  these 
have  humanized  him ;  and  made  him,  even  when 
he  is  most  starved,  wave  his  hand  to  his  friend,  and 
with  a  smile  upon  his  countenance,  say,  Take  the 
first  grab,  as  did  the  famished  Signor  to  the  rapa 
cious  Butcut  —  which  made  the  yet  unsatisfied 
BJandy  hand  over  the  last  slice  of  the  middling  to 


126  THE   BLACKWATEK   CIIKONICLE. 

lame  Triptolemus,  and  belie  himself,  when  he  said, 
Take  that,  Trip,  Pm  not  a-hungry.  The  reader 
will  perceive,  from  this,  that  the  wilderness  had 
not  yet  made  us  altogether  savage ;  also  he  will 
perceive  though,  that  its  tendency  is  toward  the 
dehumanization  of  man  —  the  resolving  him  into 
his  original  simple  element  of  wild  beast. 

I  would  take  advantage  of  this  occasion  —  all  the 
great  historians  do  so — to  philosophize  a  little  upon 
the  absolute  necessity  there  is  for  good  government 
over  mankind — that  there  should  be  good  laws, 
and  firmly  maintained — how  stability  and  order, 
and  the  social  decorums,  that  make  nations  refined 
and  great,  and  keep  them  so,  are  thereby  only  up 
held:  how  otherwise,  man  will  soon  convert  the 
garden-spots  of  the  world  into  a  bear-walk.  These 
high  corollaries  I  would  deduce  from  our  experience 
of  the  wilderness,  and  go  to  the  trouble  of  showing 
them  convincingly,  with  reasons  manifold,  were  it 
not,  that  just  at  this  time  there  is  a  practical  teach 
ing  of  them  everywhere  over  the  land,  that  is  making 
the  lesson  manifest  to  the  dullest  mind  —  and  which 
practical  teaching,  if  not  arrested,  will  soon  convert 
the  garden  of  our  American  civilization  into  such  a 
bear-walk  as  the  world  has  not  yet  seen. 

Be  these  things,  however,  as  they  may  —  let  the 
republic  tremble  to  its  foundations,  if  it  must  —  let 
political  and  social  anarchy  take  it,  if  it  has  to  be 
B0  —  there  are  those  about  who  will  right  it,  and 


THE   LODGE    IN   THE   WILDERNESS.  127 

rear  its  firm  bead  higher,  and  higher  yet,  to  the 
skies.  In  the  meantime,  when  the  hurly-burly 
comes,  we  of  this  expedition  have  made  up  our 
minds  to  seize  upon  the  Canaan ;  and  with  the 
knowledge  we  have  acquired  of  its  fastnesses  — 
such  as  the  laurel : — its  gorges,  narrow  defiles, 
rocky  precipices,  and  torrent  passes  —  all  its  mili 
tary  availabilities  —  it  will  go  hard  with  us  if  we 
don't  hold  it  against  all  the  other  freebooters  of  the 
United  States — let  their  name  be  legion  ! 

However,  upon  this  point  we  must  keep  our 
counsel,  or  we  might  be  frustrated  in  our  enterprise 
by  the  rapine  of  the  times.  A.  wise  man  is  his  own 
lantern. 

In  the  meantime,  the  supper  was  gone — juggled, 
or  jugged  away ;  and  the  animals  to  all  appear 
ances  appeased.  We  now  gathered  into  the  inner 
penetralia  of  our  hold  ;  and  stowed  ourselves  away 
in  every  violation  of  the  rules  of  ceremony  known 
to  any  of  the  nations  of  Christendom,  or  of  the 
heathen  —  smoking  cigars  or  pipes  —  telling  stories, 
and  singing  songs,  of  love,  war,  romance,  the  chase, 
intermixed  with  our  national  anthems,  and  local 
ballads,  pathetic  or  humorous,  now  in  the  harmony 
of  Germany  or  of  Italy,  of  France  or  old  romantic 
Spain,  and  now  to  the  strains  of  some  low,  dulcet, 
African  refrain.  Thus  were  passed  the  first  watches 
of  the  night,  until,  at  length,  tired  nature  yielded  to 
the  omnipotence  of  sleep  ;  and,  hushed  by  the  night 


128 


THE    BLACKWATEK    CHKONICLE. 


winds  murmuring  among  the  immemorial  trees, 
while  the  blazing  pile  at  our  feet  illumined  the 
forest  around  and  above  us  with  its  silver  and 


golden  flame,  imparting  a  magic  sheen  to  the  leaves 
and  branches  of  the  woods,  until  it  all  seemed  the 
lighted  tracery  of  some  vast  Gothic  minster  of  the 


THE  LODGE  IN  THE  WILDEKNESS.        129 

wild ;  and  with  nothing  above  us  but  the  vault  of 
heaven,  studded  with  its  glittering  stars  (which  we 
couldn't  see)— and  nothing  beneath  us  but  the 
spicy  smelling  hemlock  —  and  nothing  over  us  but 
a  blanket — we  fell  asleep,  as  sweetly  and  confi 
dingly  here  in  the  wild,  as  children  beneath  the 
roof-tree  of  some  guardian  home. 

And  so,  tired  reader,  good  night!  May  your 
sleep  be  ever  as  safe  in  the  city,  and  your  dreams 
never  worse  than  those  that  haunted  the  hemlock 
of  our  lost  expedition. 

6* 


130  THE    BLACKWATER    CHRONICLE. 


CHAPTEE    X. 

THE  BLACKWATER   FOUND A  GREAT  NUMBER  OF  TROUT 

TAKEN MR.  BUTCUT  FRIES  SOME  FISH. 

ABOUT  daybreak,  when  our  sleep  was  at  the  high 
est,  and  the  atmosphere  the  most  chilly  —  the 
twilight  just  emerging  from  the  night  —  Doctor 
Adolphus  Blandy  awoke  from  his  dreams.  Sleep 
ing  next  to  Mr.  Butcut  —  and  that  gentleman,  taking 
good  care  of  himself  even  in  his  sleep,  having  con 
trived  to  appropriate  to  himself,  during  the  night, 
the  blanket  that  warmed  the  shoulders  of  Adolphus 
— the  doctor  woke  up  at  this  hour  yawning  and 
chilled.  Contemplating  for  a  while,  the  comforta 
ble  party  around  him,  and  particularly  contempla 
ting  the  exceedingly  comfortable  Butcut,  just  at 
this  time  emitting  the  longest  drawn  and  most  swel 
ling  notes  of  his  horn ;  and  also  reflecting,  some 
what  bitterly  may  be,  that  all  this  was  doubly 
enjoyed  by  But,  at  the  expense  of  Ids  own  shiver 
ing  discomfort  —  himself  sacrificed  to  this  too  com 
plete  bodily  satisfaction  of  the  partner  of  his  sleep 
— and  accustomed,  no  doubt,  himself  to  his  own 


THE   BLACKWATER   FOUND.  131 

proper  share  of  nocturnal  indulgence  :  thus  contem 
plating  the  repose  around  him,  the  devil  of  that 
dog-in-the-manger  quality  of  our  nature,  that  will 
sometimes  get  uppermost  in  the  breasts  of  the  best 
of  men,  arose  and  took  possession  of  his  soul. 

"Aha,  Mr.  But!"  said  Galen  to  himself,  "you 
look  mighty  comfortable,  indeed,  with  every  bit  of 
my  blanket  wrapped  about  you  —  tucked  in,  too! 
No  wonder  I  couldn't  pull  it  over  me.  I'll  fix  you, 
Mr.  Snug,  for  this,  I  think.  If  I'm  shivering  here, 
you  sha'n't  sleep  so  comfortably  there,  ancf  in  my 
blanket,  too  —  confound  you!" 

So  he  deliberately  arose,  and  set  fire  to  the  hem 
lock  upon  which  we  were  sleeping,  starting  the 
flame  at  a  point  nearest  to  the  object  of  his  particu 
lar  malice.  Having  got  his  blaze  under  way,  he 
next  picked  up  a  hatchet,  and  finding  a  young  fir- 
tree  so  placed  that  when  cut  down  it  would  fall 
with  all  its  branches  directly  upon  the  sleepers,  he 
went  to  work  to  fell  it,  a  great  deal  of  especial  de 
light  beaming  all  the  while  from  his  eyes. 

The  hemlock  being  of  the  Pinus  species,  fire 
takes  hold  of  it  rapidly,  and  soon  the  camp  was  in 
a  blaze.  The  flames  spreading  in  close  proximity 
around  Peter,  crackling  upon  his  ear,  and  flaring 
in  his  eye,  he  awoke  in  great  terror,  and  aroused  the 
camp  with  his  outcries.  Just  at  this  critical  mo 
ment,  down  came  the  doctor's  young  fir-tree,  th.-it 
he  had  been  all  the  while  industriously  hacking  at, 


132  THE    BLACKWATEK    CHRONICLE. 

down  right  over  the  camp,  with  all  its  sweeping 
branches,  trapping  the  party.  Of  course,  there  was 
no  little  commotion  among  us.  The  fire  was  in 
stantly  put  out,  however,  by  a  sort  of  instinct  of 
preservation  common  to  mankind;  and  not  yet 
fairly  awake,  and  a  general  impression  prevailing 
in  the  confusion  that  we  were  attacked  by  the  wild 
animals,  we  seized  upon  the  rifles,  hatchets,  knives, 
frying-pan,  and  but-ends  of  the  burned  wood-pile, 
to  sell  our  lives  as  dearly  as  possible.  Missing 
Blandy*,  however,  who  had  concealed  himself  be 
hind  a  tree,  the  reality  of  the  case  began  to  break 
upon  us;  and  fairly  now  awake,  we  commented 
variously  upon  the  caricature  alacrity  that  had  been 
exhibited  by  the  expedition  in  defending  itself  from 
the  supposed  assault  of  the  beasts  of  the  wilderness 
— and  took  advantage  of  the  occasion  to  get  break 
fast,  and  make  an  early  start  for  the  day. 

The  breakfast  was  a  repetition  of  the  last  night's 
supper,  which  being  said — it  is  enough.  Present 
ly  the  sun  reddened  the  eastern  sky,  and  the  hunt 
ers  getting  the  direction  they  proposed  to  try  their 
fortune  in,  we  set  off  through  the  yet  dank  and 
dewy  forest.  Our  way  was  broken  and  rugged, 
up  and  down,  through  ravines  that  were  deep 
chasms,  and  over  great  fallen  trees  covered  with 
moss  and  wet  as  a  sponge.  Deer  we  saw  frequent 
ly  browsing  about,  and  out  here  where  perhaps  they 
had  never  seen  a  human  being  before,  they  would 


THE    BLACKWATER   FOUND.  133 

lift  up  their  heads  and  for  a  while  gaze  at  us  as  if 
in  wonder  at  what  it  all  meant.  Once  or  twice  it 
was  proposed  to  shoot  one  of  them,  but  this  was 
cried  down  as  an  act  of  wantonness,  since  we  were 
already  burdened  with  as  much  as  we  could  carry  ; 
and,  uncertain  as  to  our  being  at  all  in  the  right  di 
rection,  we  were  somewhat  anxious  and  desirous  to 
hasten  on  our  way,  while  yet  fresh  from  the  night's 
rest. 

There  was  one  part  of  the  wilderness  which  we 
traversed  this  morning,  where  we  came  frequently 
upon  the  traces  of  bear.  Sometimes  we  would 
come  upon  the  trunk  of  a  dead  tree,  some  hundred 
feet  long,  and  five  or  six  feet  in  diameter,  scattered 
and  raked  about  in  all  directions  by  the  bears  to 
get  at  the  worms  to  eat.  Sometimes  we  would 
find  a  cluster  of  trees,  with  the  bark  worn  smooth, 
which  the  hunters  told  us  was  a  certain  indication 
that  a  family  of  these  animals  had  been  here  raised, 
and  were  no  doubt  now  in  some  hollow  tree  or  fast 
ness  not  far  off. 

Thus  we  walked  along  for  several  hours,  proba 
bly  at  no  greater  rate  than  a  mile  an  hour,  and  in 
some  evident  disheartenment — for  we  were  not  at 
all  so  light  of  spirit  as  we  might  have  been,  and 
would,  had  we  felt  more  certain  of  our  course. 
Every  now  and  then  when  we  stopped  to  rest,  the 
conversation  would  take  a  debating  turn,  the  sub 
ject  discussed  being  generally  the  points  of  the 


134:  THE   BLACKWATER   CHRONICLE. 

compass ;  one  asserting  that  here  was  the  north, 
and  another  that  it  was  in  the  very  opposite  direc 
tion.  Peter's  mind  was  always  opposed  to  the 
hunters' ;  if  they  pointed  this  way  for  north,  he 
was  sure  to  point  in  the  opposite,  and  maintain  his 
point  of  the  compass  with  much  vehement  speech  ; 
for  he  was  by  this  time  fully  assured  that  the  hunt 
ers  had  no  knowledge  of  the  country  —  in  fact 
knew  nothing  of  wood-craft  at  all.  These  debates 
were  generally  wound  up  by  some  very  direct  re 
mark  of  Triptoleinus's,  proclaiming  it  as  his  opinion, 
that  the  hunters  didn't  know  any  more  than  he  did, 
where  we  were — when  some  one  of  the  more  dis 
creet  members  of  the  party  would  have  to  intimate 
to  Powell  and  Conway,  that  Trip  didn't  mean  as 
much  as  he  said,  for  fear  they  might  possibly  lose 
their  good  temper,  and  leave  the  whole  expedition 
in  the  lurch,  by  deserting  us  upon  the  first  favorable 
opportunity :  in  which  event  it  is  altogether  likely 
we  would  have  remained  out  in  the  Canaan  long 
enough  to  have  resolved  ourselves  into  our  original 
wild  elements,  or  to  have  become  a  pile  of  bones. 
But  Powell  and  Conway  were  good-tempered  men, 
and  set  down  to  the  proper  account  all  our  insinu 
ations  against  their  knowledge ;  and  generally 
retired  to  a  little  distance,  and  held  some  rational 
parley  with  each  other  upon  the  matter  in  doubt. 
At  length  we  scrambled  up  a  desperate  hill,  and 
seating  ourselves  down  to  rest  on  its  brow,  we 


THE    BLACKWATER,    FOUND.  135 

heard  Peter's  voice  back  in  the  bushes,  crying  out 
that  he  couldn't  stand  it  any  longer.  Presently  he 
came  in,  out  of  breath,  dragging  himself  along; 
and^sitting  down  on  a  log  with  an  air  of  dogged 
resolution,  great  misery  in  his  countenance,  he 
swore  he  would  go  no  further. 

"  Gentlemen,  there  must  be  an  end  put  to  this. 
I  can't  stand  it.  It's  all  intolerable — terrific  !" 

"  Let  him  stay  here,  then,"  said  the  Signor. 
"  We'll  go  on,  and  find  the  falls.  We  can  then 
send  one  of  the  men  back  for  him." 

The  enterprise  was  growing  desperate,  so  we 
moved  along,  determined  to  find  water  at  all  haz 
ards,  if  we  fell  in  our  tracks.  As  we  took  up  the 
march  again,  each  man  gave  Peter  a  parting  volley. 

"You  had  better  struggle  on,  But,  as  long  as 
you  can.  If  you  should  be  left  here,  you  will 
never  find  the  way  in  yourself." 

"  And  bear  it  in  mind,  an  expedition  fitted  out 
for  your  recovery  might  not  be  more  fortunate  than 
those  to  the  North  Pole." 

"And,  But,  there  is  a  possibility  that  govern 
ment  mightn't  think  you  worth  discovering." 

"  Mr.  Grinnell  couldn't  be  calculated  on  for  you, 
Peter." 

"  And  if  ever  you  are  found,  yon  might  be  a  pile 
of  bones — remember  the  lost  man!"  said  Trip. 

"Farewell,  Peter!  I'm  sorry  to  leave  you,  old 
fellow." 


136  THE    BLACKWATER    CHRONICLE. 

"  Go  to ,"  said  Peter,  "  with  your  blasted 

nonsense.  Since  you  wont  stop  and  encamp,  I'll 
show  you  I  can  walk  with  any  of  you." 

And  Peter  got  up  and  followed  after,  not  lining 
the  idea  of  remaining  by  himself  in  the  forest ;  and 
thinking  rightly  it  would  be  rather  hazardous  to  be 
left  behind  by  the  party. 

About  an  hour  after  this  we  were  walking  along 
the  broad  top  of  a  ridge,  when  one  of  the  hunters 
stopped,  and  thought  he  heard  something  like  the 
distant  sound  of  water.  Reanimated  by  the  thought 
we  pricked  up  our  ears,  and  went  on  in  better  heart. 
But  Botecote,  who  was  really  suffering  a  good  deal, 
now  came  to  a  dead  halt,  and  refused  to  move.  ~No 
persuasion  this  time,  nor  any  banter — no  argument 
addressed  to  his  hopes,  nor  any  intimidation  of  any 
sort,  that  the  inventive  genius  of  the  expedition 
could  suggest  —  was  of  the  least  avail.  The  case 
this  time  was  desperate  ;  and  we  held  a  council  of 
war  over  him,  the  chief  question  being  what  was  to 
be  done  with  his  body.  He  was  too  big  to  carry  — 
which  was  the  suggestion  of  Triptolemus — so,  of 
course,  that  thought  was  dismissed ;  and,  besides, 
we  had  no  idea  of  doing  it :  for  we  had  still  a  lurk 
ing  belief  that  he  was  playing  'possum  a  little,  in 
order  that  he  might  accomplish  an  encampment. 
Fortunately,  however,  and  saving  us  from  the  des 
perate  measure  of  leaving  him  here  in  the  forest, 
with  a  chance  that  we  should  not  be  able  to  find 


THE    BLACK  WATER    FOUND.  137 

him  again,  old  Conway  had  explored  the  side  of  the 
mountain,  and  just  now  returned,  saying  that  he 
had  come  to  a  wide  belt  of  laurel,  and  that  it  was 
his  opinion  the  Blackwater  ran  through  it. 

"I  knew  it,"  said  Peter.  "It's  just  as  I  said, 
gentlemen.  We've  been  enduring  all  this  horrible 
walking  all  the  morning,  when,  by  going  more  to 
the  left,  we  might  have  been  in  the  Blackwater  long 
ago.  "Walked  to  death  for  nothing!" 

And  now  it  was  suggested  that  the  laurel  should 
be  explored,  the  fact  of  the  water  ascertained,  and 
Peter  put  into  it,  to  make  his  way  to  the  falls  down 
the  middle  of  the  stream.  This  proposition  was  as 
sented  to,  as  the  best  the  case  admitted  of.  Ac 
cordingly,  going  down  to  the  edge  of  the  laurel, 
and  seeing  Peter  safely  deposited  in  the  brake  — 
with  some  appropriate  encouragement  of  him  as  he 
fought  his  way  through  —  and  hearing  presently  his 
somewhat  cheerful  shout,  announcing  his  safe  arri 
val  in  the  stream  —  we  made  our  way  back  again 
to  the  top  of  the  mountain — Powell  being  certain 
now  that  we  were  on  the  Blackwater,  and  that  in 
the  course  of  a  mile  or  so  we  would  come  upon  some 
of  its  falls.  Indeed,  we  were  now  convinced  that 
we  heard  the  sound  of  them  in  the  distance. 

We  pursued  our  march  along  the  cone  of  the 
ridge  we  were  on  for  something  better  than  a  mile, 
when,  coming  to  a  halt,  we  distinctly  heard  a  water 
fall  below  us.  There  was  no  doubt  about  it  now : 


138  THE   BLACKWATER   CHRONICLE. 

and  we  descended  the  mountain- side  with  a  shout. 
We  met  the  laurel  about  half-way  down  the  mount 
ain —  and  breaking  into  it,  after  the  necessary  fight 
ing,  we  filed  down,  one  by  one,  along  a  great  fir- 
tree  that  had,  happily  for  us,  fallen  there  some  ten 
or  twenty  years  before,  and  stepped  out  into  the 
Black  water,  on  a  broad  surface  of  rock — the  very 
top  itself  of  the  falls  we  were  seeking.  In  a  few 
minutes  we  fixed  up  our  fishing-lines,  and,  dotted 
along  the  edge  of  the  fall  which  was  about  ten  feet 
high,  middle  of  the  day  as  it  was  when  the  fish 
generally  cease  to  bite,  we  took  from  the  pool  be 
low  some  sixty  trout,  as  fast  as  we  could  bait  our 
hooks  for  them.  Satisfied  with  this  taste  of  the 
stream,  and  assured  of  our  hopes  of  trout  innumera 
ble,  we  descended  the  falls,  and  looked  about  for  a 
suitable  spot  to  construct  a  camp,  and  prepare  our 
dinner — for  which,  by  this  time,  we  were  in  no 
little  need,  having  eaten  nothing  since  the  early 
twilight. 

In  the  meantime,  Mr.  Butcut  and  Con  way — fish 
ing  down  the  middle  of  the  stream,  and  having 
caught  some  thirty  or  forty  more  trout  as  they  came 
along — arrived  at  the  falls,  and  thus  the  party  were 
once  more  together — boastful  over  all  our  toil  and 
suffering,  and  in  high  and  happy  spirits  at  the  suc 
cessful  achievement  of  the  enterprise  out. 

In  the  course  of  an  hour  a  camp  was  constructed 
by  the  banks  of  the  stream,  about  a  hundred  yards 


THE    BLACKWATEK   FOUND.  139 

below  the  falls.  A  great  blazing  fire,  such  as  we 
had  the  night  before,  was  soon  under  way ;  and  la 
zily  stretched  about  on  the  hemlock,  or  out  upon 
the  large,  moss-covered  rocks  that  bordered  the 
stream  —  now  frying  and  eating  a  pan  of  trout  at 
returning  intervals,  as  a  not  quite  sated  appetite 
prompted,  or  taking  a  little  sleep,  as  nature  inclined 
—  we  passed  the  hours  until  about  four  o'clock, 
when  it  was  deemed  advisable  to  sally  forth  for  the 
purpose  of  laying  in  provision  for  our  supper  and 
the  next  morning's  breakfast. 

Leaving  some  of  the  party  to  perfect  the  works 
at  the  camp,  and  make  everything  as  comfortable 
as  possible  for  the  night,  we  divided  the  rest  into 
two  bands,  and  set  out — one  up  the  stream,  the 
other  down — to  make  a  somewhat  extensive  foray 
upon  the  trout. 

We  will  not  give  a  minute  account  of  the  eve 
ning's  fishing.  We  will  state  generally  that  the  in 
road  was  very  successful ;  that  we  took  the  trout  as 
fast  as  we  could  bait  for  them ;  that  in  a  walk  of 
about  a  mile  up  the  stream,  and  two  miles  down, 
and  back,  we  at  length  arrived  in  camp  with  about 
as  many  fish  as  we  could  well  carry  —  and  were 
back  all  of  us  about  an  hour  before  dark,  and  all 
rather  indifferent  about  taking  any  more  trout  that 
evening. 

Immediately  in  front  of  the  camp,  and  about  a 
step  out  in  the  stream,  is  a  large  rock,  in  shape  a 


14:0  THE   BLACKWATER   CHRONICLE. 

parallelogram,  of  some  five  feet  by  ten,  rising  above 
the  water  about  three  feet,  and  of  almost  an  entirely 
flat  surface,  except  where  at  one  end  it  is  scooped 
into  a  slight  hollow,  that  will  hold  some  two  or  three 
buckets  of  water.  This  rock  we  have  appropriated 
as  our  kitchen ;  and  upon  it  we  have  counted  out 
some  five  hundred  trout,  varying  in  size  from  six 
to  ten  inches — some  of  them,  the  black  trout,  with 
deep  red  spots — and  some  salmon-colored,  with 
lighter  red  spots  —  all  of  them  very  beautiful,  though 
not,  of  course,  of  the  largest  size  of  the  fish  ;  for  we 
have  yet  to  go  down  below  the  great  falls  of  the 
Blackwater  to  get  at  them. 

All  hands  are  now  called  into  requisition  to  clean 
all  these  fish ;  and  it  is  not  long  before  the  whole 
five  hundred  are  prepared  for  the  pan,  and  safely 
put  away  in  the  hollow  basin  at  the  other  end  of  the 
kitchen,  with  a  plenty  of  good  fresh  water  around 
them. 

By  the  side  of  this  rock,  called  the  kitchen,  a  lit 
tle  farther  out  in  the  stream  —  an  easy  step  taking 
you  from  the  top  of  the  kitchen-rock  to  it — is  an 
other  large  sandstone  rock,  which  is  our  parlor. 
This  last  is  about  ten  feet  by  twelve,  and  about 
three  feet  also  above  the  water,  and  perfectly  flat  and 
smooth  on  its  surface.  Describing  thus  our  differ 
ent  apartments  —  all,  like  the  statues  of  the  heathen 
goddesses  in  the  "  Groves  of  Blarney,"  standing  out 
"naked  in  the  open  air" — perhaps  it  would  afford 


THE   BLACKWATER   FOUND.  141 

the  reader  some  satisfaction  to  know  oar  manner 
of  using  them.     It  is  very  simple  ;  as  thus  : — 

You  will  have  the  goodness  to  observe  the  move 
ments  of  Mr.  Butcut  at  this  moment.  This  gentle 
man  has  a  turn  for  good  living,  and  consequently 
he  is  something  of  an  amateur  cook.  Indeed,  it  is 
his  pleasure  so  to  indulge  his  genius  this  way,  that 
after  he  has  himself  eaten  as  much  as  he  wants  for 
the  time  being,  he  takes  great  delight  in  exercising 
his  talents  for  the  gratification  of  others.  He  is 
now  about  to  cook  a  mess  for  the  Prior,  who,  com 
ing  in  the  last  from  fishing,  has  now  made  himself 
ready  to  enjoy  his  supper,  having  a  very  fine  rage 
upon  him  at  present,  and  a  particularly  good  capa 
city  at  all  times  to  go  upon.  Butcut  takes  up  the 
frying-pan,  and  repairs  with  it  to  the  kitchen.  Pla 
cing  it  down  by  the  fish,  he  selects  from  the  clean 
and  beautiful  hundreds  in  the  basin  about  eight  fine 
fish — half  of  them  black,  half  of  them  salmon-col 
ored,  all  of  them  of  the  largest  and  fattest — these 
being  just  as  many  as  the  bottom  of  the  frying-pan 
will  properly  hold.  He  takes  them  carefully,  even 
daintily,  by  the  tail,  between  his  fore-finger  and 
thumb,  and  places  them  accurately  in  the  pan  in 
alternate  heads  and  tails.  A  little  salt  and  a  little 
black  pepper  are  carefully  sprinkled  over  them.  He 
next  cuts  a  few  thin  slices  of  middling  of  bacon  and 
places  them  about  in  the  pan.  He  is  now  ready  for 
the  fire.  So  he  goes  to  the  great  blazing  pile,  and 


142 


THE    BLACKWATER    CHRONICLE. 


raking  out  from  underneath  it,  away  from  any 
smoke,  a  quantity  of  the  livest  embers,  he  sets  the 
frying-pan  evenly  on  these,  and  soon  has  the  whole 
delicate  mess  frying  away  in  the  most  delightful 
manner  —  the  fat  of  the  middling  crackling  and  his 
sing  a  most  delicious  music  to  his  ear- — also  to  the 
ear  of  the  expectant  Master.  The  accomplished 
Peter  takes  great  care  that  the  fish  shall  not  burn 
in  the  least,  so  he  removes  the  pan  from  the  hot 
embers  every  once  in  a  while.  Cooked  sufficiently 
now,  as  he  supposes,  on  the  one  side,  he  proceeds  to 
the  operation  of  turning  them.  This  he  does  after  the 


manner  of  tossing  a  pancake.     He  spreads  a  white 
napkin  upon  the  rock  hard  by,  and  giving  the  fry- 


THE   BLACKWATER   FOUND.  143 

ing-pan  a  toss  of  a  very  artful  character,  up  go  the 
trout  in  the  air,  turning  over  and  coming  down  into 
the  pan  again  precisely  as  the  arch-cook  desires  it : 
and  all  this  is  done  without  spilling  even  so  much  as 
a  drop  of  grease  on  the  napkin.  He  now  goes  to  the 
fire  again,  and  performs  some  more  hocus-pocus,  that 
is  all  Hebrew-Greek  to  the  ignorant,  until  the  mess 
is  of  a  delicate  brown  hue — when  he  deems  the 
operation  complete,  and  hands  the  frying-pan  to 
the  Master  with  an  air  which  seems  to  say,  "A  dish 
fit  to  set  before  a  king !" 

The  sharp-set  Prior,  in  the  meantime,  has  pre 
pared  himself  with  a  plate  —  of  the  real  stone-ware 
— that  is,  a  flat,  thin  stone,  of  some  twelve  inches' 
diameter,  which  he  has  selected  from  the  bed  of  the 
stream  for  his  purpose  ;  and  emptying  the  trout  up 
on  his  plate,  with  a  chunk  of  bread  on  one  end  of  it 
and  his  big  knife  on  the  other,  he  hands  the  frying- 
pan  to  the  next  gentleman  eagerly  waiting  for  it, 
and  proceeds  from  the  fireplace  to  the  kitchen,  and 
from  the  kitchen  to  the  parlor,  where  he  sets  him 
self  down,  with  his  legs  crossed  under  him  after  the 
fashion  of  the  Grand  Mufti,  and,  with  his  plate  be 
fore  him,  dips  in,  and  makes  away  with  the  spoils 
of  the  Blackwater,  in  what  in  elegant  life  would  be 
considered  a  very  short  space  of  time,  but  which 
excites  no  comment  at  all  out  here — it  being  com 
mon  to  all  the  men  we  have  seen  feed  in  the  country. 

The  trout  is  such  light  food,  that  eight  of  them, 


144  THE   BIACKWATER   CHRONICLE. 

some  ten  inches  long,  will  not  make  a  supper  for  a 
hearty  man,  leading  this  wilderness  life;  and -ac 
cordingly  the  Master  asks  for  another  plateful.  But 
Mr.  Butcut  is  by  this  time  cooking  another  little 
mess  for  himself,  his  appetite  getting  up  again  on 
him :  so  the  former  gentleman  has  to  wait  for  his 
turn  at  the  frying-pan,  and  try  his  hand  for  himself. 
But  enough.  This  will  suffice  to  show  the  habits 
of  our  indoor  life  out  here  on  the  Black  water — and 
give  also  some  very  just  idea  of  the  different  apart 
ments  of  our  dwelling,  and  of  our  felicitous  manner 
of  using  them. 


THE   BLACKWATER   VILLA.  145 


CHAPTEE   XI. 

THE   BLACKWATER   VILLA. 

OUR  Blackwater  villa  is  placed  in  the  most  pic 
turesque  position  imaginable  —  almost  immediately 
upon  the  banks  of  the  most  lovely  of  all  amber 
streams.  It  is  protected  on  one  side  by  masses  of 
gray  sandstone  rock,  dashed  with  spots  of  a  darker 
and  lighter  hue  of  gray,  and  occasionally  a  tinge  of 
red — these  rocks  coated  over  in  places  with  moss 
of  various  mingled  colors — gray,  blue,  green,  yel 
low,  and  purple,  and  soft  and  glossy  as  the  richest 
velvet.  A  noble  overshadowing  fir-tree  rises  up 
from  one  corner  of  the  villa,  some  hundred  and 
fifty  feet,  to  the  skies.  The  laurel  grows  thick  and 
matted  back  of  it,  in  impenetrable  masses ;  and  the 
glory  of  its  flower,  now  just  swelling  into  bloom, 
gives  an  air  of  elegance  —  even  of  splendor,  to  the 
embowered  dwelling.  In  front,  the  pure  cool  stream 
leaps  over  the  falls  like  a  river  of  calf's-foot  jelly 
with  a  spray  of  whipped  syllabub  on  top  of  it,  and 
tumbles  wildly  down  through  its  rocky  and  ob 
structed  bed,  filling  your  imagination  with  the 
7 


146  THE    BLACKWATEB    CHRONICLE. 

poetry  of  unpolluted   mountain    waters — running 
pure  to  your  ideal,  as  the  kingdom  of  heaven. 

The  valley  of  the  Blackwater  is  not  more  than  a 
hundred  yards  wide,  here  where  we  have  made  our 
home ;  and  embowered  on  all  sides,  by  mountains 
of  noble  forms  and  various,  it  wears  an  air  of  entire 
seclusion  from  the  world  we  have  deserted.  ISTo 
intruding  footsteps  of  man,  we  instinctively  feel, 
will  here  disturb  our  chosen,  perfect  solitude.  All 
customs,  manners,  modes  of  life,  that  we  have  here 
tofore  known,  are  felt  to  be  the  remembrance  of  an 
almost  forgotten  dream.  The  earth  is  entirely  new 
to  our  senses ;  and  it  is  all  our  own  —  an  entire  and 
absolutely  perfect  fee-simple  estate  of  inheritance 
in  land  and  water,  the  deed  recorded  in  the  most 
secret  recesses  of  our  own  breasts.  Therefore  we 
feel  an  unbounded  liberty  of  thought,  speech,  and 
action,  and  this  is  manifest  in  all  we  say  and  do ; 
and  hence  the  reader  will  easily  understand  how 
it  is,  that  there  is  such  entire  freedom  of  remark 
among  us,  one  to  another;  how  it  is  that  we  lay 
about  on  the  hemlock,  now  that  night  has  set  in 
upon  us,  in  such  careless  luxuriance  of  attitude ; 
how  that  the  Prior  is  now  stretched  out  with  his  feet 
to  the  fire,  and  one  of  the  hunters  squatted  down 
confidingly  between  them  ;  how  the  Signer  goes  on 
all  fours  over  our  bodies,  in  getting  to  a  snug  place 
in  a  corner  of  the  camp,  whither  his  fancy  now 
urges  him ;  how  that  Mr.  Butcut  is  flat  upon  his 


THE    BLACKWATER    VILLA.  14:7 

back  in  the  middle  of  the  softest  hemlock,  his  face 
direct  to  the  heavens,  and  his  body  spread  out  as 
usual  in  his  favorite  position  of  a  supple-jack  distort 
ed  to  the  utmost;  how  Triptolemus's  lame  leg  is 
thrown  over  one  of  old  Conway's  shoulders,  with  a 
view  to  the  convenient  drying  of  a  wet  stocking 
before  the  fire ;  how  it  is  that  Adolphus,  with  a 
blanket  sweeping  his  shoulders,  half  sits,  half  re 
clines  in  among  the  roots  of  the  great  fir-tree, 
wishing  he  could  smoke  a  mild  Havana  like  the 
rest  of  us  —  but  compensating  his  soul  for  his  ina 
bility,  by  indulging  in  visions  of  trout  swimming 
about  in  all  beautiful  imaginary  waters  —  the  day 
dream  haunting  the  lights  and  shadows  of  his  face^ 
like  an  angel  of  Paradise. 

Lying  about  thus  in  all  unrestrained  felicity,  we 
told  stories,  and  discoursed  much  learning  of  the 
fisherman  and  the  hunter,  ancient  and  mpdern ; 
every  now  and  then  interweaving  some  very  enter 
taining  and  free  —  sometimes  very  slashing  com 
ment  upon  one  another ;  all  of  which  we  regret  it 
is  out  of  the  question  for  us  to  impart  to  the  reader, 
because  of  its  too  great  freedom,  even  for  this  out 
spoken  age.  Herein,  therefore,  that  we  may  not 
fall  below  the  dignity  of  history — having  pitched 
our  chronicle  up  to  the  very  highest  standard  —  we 
must  exercise  a  becoming  self-denial,  hard  as  it  is 
to  refrain. 

The  moon   has  now  risen,  and  although  a  few 


148  THE    BLACKWATER   CHRONICLE. 

light  fleecy  clouds  are  gathering  about  here  and 
there  above  us,  yet  the  goddess  of  the  night  shines 
down  as  silvery  soft  upon  the  Canaan,  as  she  did 
of  old  upon  the  garden  of  Verona,  where  Lorenzo 
and  Jessica  vied  with  each  other  in  chanting  her 
worship  in  such  beautiful  strains.  And,  oh !  most 
beautiful  reader — now  absorbing  this  inspired 
chapter,  like  Geraldine,  when  in  her  night-robes 
loose,  she  lay  reclined  on  couch  of  Ind,  and  poured 
over  Surrey's  raptured  line — how  soothingly  soft 
its  influence  upon  us  here  in  the  wild,  you — you 
can  never  altogether  know — not  even  from  this 
rapt  page ! — how  all  at  once,  as  if  at  another  Pros- 
pero's  wand,  our  mood  was  changed  from  that  of 
wanton,  reckless  mirth,  and  a  gentle  dreamy  in 
spiration,  all  poetry  and  romance  (all  the  finer  for 
our  satisfaction  in  the  regard  of  the  trout — heav 
enly  fish  !) — came  with  the  balmy-  south  wind,  and 
took  possession  of  our  souls!  You — even  you, 
blissful  girl,  upon  whom  the  favoring  gods  have 
bestowed  the  gift  of  genius,  as  well  as  of  beauty  — 
you,  with  your  "  finely-fibred  frame,"  like  Geor- 
giana's,  duchess  of  Devonshire,  whom  Coleridge 
has  so  finely  commemorated  in  his  beautiful  lines 
addressed  to  that  lady  —  even  you  can  not  ever 
know  this,  unless,  perchance,  you  would  go  with 
me,  and  live  a  sylvan  huntress  by  my  side  in  the 
Canaan,  as  did  Ruth  with  her  roving  lover  in  the 
wilds  of  Georgia !  But  God  temper  the  wind  to  you, 


THE   BLACKWATEE   VILLA.  149 

shorn  lamb,  if  you  should  ever  trust  yourself  to  my 
freebooter's  faith! — unless,  indeed,  a  latent  Helen 
MacGreggor  might  be  contained  in  your  inches ! 

The  moon  and  the  soft  south  wind  held  us  now 
completely  enthralled  in  their  divine  ravishment ; 
and  in  this  mood  we  grew  musical — the  Signor 
Andante  at  length  tuning  his  voice  to  the  beautiful 
serenade  of  Henry  Neele :  perhaps  the  most  ex 
quisite  song  that  has  yet  been  composed  by  any  of 
our  countrymen.  It  was  thus  Andante's  voice, 
murmured  a  music  sweeter  than  the  Blackwater  in 
our  ears : — 

THE     SERENADE. 

"Wake,  lady,  wake — the  midnight  moon 
Sails  through  the  cloudless  skies  of  June: 
The  stars  gaze  sweetly  on  the  stream 
Which,  in  the  brightness  of  their  beam, 

One  sheet  of  glory  lies. 
The  glow-worm  lends  its  little  light, 
And  all  that's  beautiful  and  bright 
Is  shining  on  our  world  to-night, 
Save  thy  bright  eyes! 

"Wake,  lady,  wake  —  the  nightingale 
Tells  to  the  moon  her  love-lorn  tale ! 
Now  doth  the  brook  that's  hushed  by  day, 
As  through  the  vale  she  winds  her  way 

In  murmurs  sweet  rejoice  ; 
The  leaves  by  the  soft  night-wind  stirrea, 
Are  whispering  many  a  gentle  word, 
And  all  earth's  sweetest  sounds  are  heard1 

Save  thy  sweet  voice ! 

"Wake,  fady,  wake  —  thy  lover  waits, 
Thy  steed  stands  saddled  at  the  gates  1 


150  THE    BLACKWATER    CHRONICLE. 

Here  is  a  garment  rich  and  rare, 

To  wrap  thee  from  the  cold  night  air ; 

The  appointed  hour  is  flown  — 
Danger  and  doubt  have  vanished  quite  — 
Our  way  before  is  clear  and  bright — 
And  all  is  ready  for  the  flight  — 

Save  thou  alone! 

"  Wake,  lady,  wake  —  I  have  a  wreath, 
Thy  broad,  fair  brow  shall  rise  beneath: 
I  have  a  ring  that  must  not  shine 
On  any  finger,  love,  but  thine  ! 

I've  kept  my  plighted  vow. 
Beneath  thy  casement  here  I  stand, 
To  lead  thee   by   thy  own  white  hand, 
Far  from  this  dull  and  captive  strand  — 

But  where  art  thou  ?" 

The  last  notes  of  the  serenade  died  away  upon  the 
air ;  and  not  a  sound  disturbed  the  repose  of  the 
wilderness,  save  the  murmur  of  the  waters,  and  the 
whisperings  of  the  trees.  Each  one  of  us,  according 
to  his  gifts,  was  enjoying  a  little  world  of  romance 
of  his  own  —  his  soul  lapped  up  in  the  creations  of 
his  gently-inspired  brain  —  thinking  not  at  all  of 
the  external  world,  but  only  of  the  ideal,  conjured 
up  by  his  teeming,  beguiling  fancy ;  when  all  at 
once  a  sudden  blow  sprung  up  fitfully  out  of  the 
stillness  of  the  air,  and  threw  the  whole  forest  in 
commotion.  The  fire  at  our  feet  shot  up  a  startling 
blaze,  in  among  the  branches  of  the  piled-up  fir 
and  hemlock  hitherto  untouched,  and  the  crackling 
flames,  with  their  myriad  spangles,  rose  high  aloft 
in  spiral  curls,  almost  up  to  the  overhanging  bran 
ches  of  the  forest.  Startled  out  of  all  the  glory  of 


THE   BLACKWATER    VILLA.  151 

our  visioned  romance,  we  arose  and  looked  out  upon 
the  night.  Clouds  were  gathering  like  mustering 
bands  everywhere  in  the  heavens,  and  fast  concen 
trating  their  forces.  The  stars  disappeared  by 
squadrons  from  the  just  now  blue  and  shining  vault 
of  heaven ;  and  the  fair  goddess  of  the  night,  queen 
of  the  glittering  realm — pale  Dian,  veiled  her  mild 
glories  altogether  from  our  eyes.  The  southwest — 
harbinger  of  summer  storms,  is  a  swift  and  impetu 
ous  power  in  the  air,  and  wonderfully  does  he  bestir 
himself  sometimes.  So  it  was  with  him  to-night ; 
for  he  sprang  up  suddenly  upon  us,  without  any 
warning,  and  vented  himself,  for  some  cause  or 
other  to  us  unknown,  in  outbursts  of  gusty  bluster 
and  passion,  that  made  us  think  of  a  whole  deluge 
of  waters  descending  upon  our  devoted  camp, 
drowning  out  our  fires  and  drenching  our  very 
beds.  But  for  the  present  there*  was  more  of  bra 
vado  than  performance  in  his  high  mightiness ;  and 
the  storm  blast  blew  by.  Still  darkness  was  every 
where  over  the  face  of  the  earth,  and  the  forest 
sent  forth  a  low  wail,  and  the  waters  murmured  a 
sullen  and  monotonous  song  —  falling  upon  the  ear 
more  like  a  heavy  sea  breaking  lazily  upon  a  flat 
shore,  than  the  light,  airy,  wild,  sportive,  notes  of 
the  playful,  impetuous,  young  streams  of  the  moun 
tains. 

Each  man  now  wrapped  himself  around   more 
closely  in  his  blanket.     No  word  was  spoken,  but 


152  THE   BLACKWATER   CHRONICLE. 

filled  with  the  gloom  of  the  night,  we  thought  wist 
fully  of  our  pleasant  homes — dry  and  snug,  and  of 
household  security  and  comfort — books,  lights, 
music,  fruits,  flowers,  jocund  children — that  is 
those  who  had  them  —  the  sly  flirtation  by  the  light 
of  the  chandelier — 

"  And  mama,  too,  blind  to  discover 
The  small  white  hand  in  mine" — 

—  all  that  makes  civilization  tolerable;  and  we  out 
here,  in  the  wilds  of  the  Canaan,  far  away  from  the 
knowledge  of  men  —  to  say  nothing  of  women  — 
perhaps  lost — and  to  all  reasonable  certainty  a  night 
of  wind  and  rain  before  us  —  bears,  panthers,  wolves, 
owls,  around  us,  and  may  be  not  so  far  off  as  we 
might  desire !  The  melancholy  soughing  of  the 
pines,  too,  above  all  the  voices  of  the  Canaan,  had 
entered  into  our  hearts,  and  awakened  our  supersti 
tion,  and  no  diversion  of  thought  could  dispossess 
our  souls  of  its  influence.  The  Master,  indeed, 
seemed  rather  to  encourage  it ;  for  presently  from 
out  a  dark  corner,  where  half  in  the  glimmer  of  the 
fire  and  half  in  the  gloom  of  the  hemlock  he  lay 
propped  away  in  a  very  Ossianly  state  of  mind,  in 
a  low,  wild  voice,  all  in  harmony  with  the  sough 
ing  sound  of  the  firs  and  the  sullen  murmur  of  the 
waters,  he  broke  in  upon  the  gloom  of  the  camp, 
crooning  the  beautiful  ballad  of  Rossmore.  It  was 
thus  the  mournful  descant  fell  upon  our  ears — now 


THE   BLACKWATER   VILLA.  153 

low  as  the  lowest  moan  of  the  pines — now  rising, 
now  swelling,  as  the  winds  blew  a  louder  wail : — 

ROSSMORE. 

"  The  day  was  declining, 

The  dark  night  drew  near ; 
The  old  lord  grew  sadder, 

And  paler  with  fear. 
'  Come  hither,  my  daughter, 

Come  nearer  —  oh,  near!  — 
It's  the  wind  or  the  water 

That  sighs  in  my  ear !' 

"Not  the  wind  nor  the  water 

Now  stirred  the  night  air, 
But  a  warning  far  sadder  — 

The  banshee  was  there ! 
Now  rising,  now  swelling,      t 

On  the  night  wind  it  bore 
One  cadence  —  still  telling, 

'I  want  thee,  RossmoreP 

"And  then  fast  came  his  breath, 

And  more  fixed  grew  his  eye  : 
And  the  shadow  of  death 

Told  his  hour  was  nigh  ! 
Ere  the  dawn  of  that  morning 

The  struggle  was  o'er, 
For  when  thrice  came  the  warning  — 

A  corpse  was  Rossmore !" 

"  Hush  your  horrible  croaking !"  said  Atfolphus, 
when  the  Master's  voice  had  come  to  a  stand-still. 
"  Shut  up,  or  I'll  leave  the  room  !  Isn't  it  all  mis 
erable  enough  already,  but  you  must  be  keeping  us 
from  going  to  sleep  with  ballads  about  dying  men, 
and  such  unearthly  things  ?" 

"Let's  put  him  out!"  exclaimed  Peter, 
7* 


154  THE   BLACKWATER   CHRONICLE. 

"  Turn  him  out  into  the  wilderness,  and  let  him 
run  with  Ishmael  and  the  other  beasts !" 

"  Pitch  him  into  the  Blackwater !" 

"  And  if  there  are  any  big  falls  below,  let  him  go 
down  them !" 

"  Kill  him !  — curse  him— kill  him  !" 

"  I  have  heard  about  such  things,  Mr.  Philips," 
said  Powell  —  "  like  that  about  Eossmore.  Do  you 
believe  in  them  ?" 

"  Oh,  certainly,  Powell." 

"  I  once  saw  a  spirit,"  said  old  Conway. 

"  "With  a  long  tail  on  him  ?"  asked  Peter. 

"  Well,  I  can't  say  but  it  had,"  continued  the  old 
man  with  eagerness.  "Once — it  was  on  a  dark, 
black — the  blackest  sort  of  a  night — about  the  end 
of  one  November' — I  was  a-walking  alone  in  the 
woods — and  I  came  close  upon  a — " 

"Don't  tell  it — it  was  nothing  but  a  bear  or  a 
wolf!"  exclaimed  Butcut.  "I  wish  I  was  at  home. 
"What  a  fool  I  was  for  coming  here!" — and  Peter 
tried  again  to  sleep. 

The  sobbing  and  sighing  wind  still  kept  up  its  sad 
lament  throughout  the  vale ;  and  Andante  to  its  ac 
companiment  again  tuned  his  voice,  and  half-spoke, 
half-sung  the  following  strange  old  Scotch  ballad : — 

THE     TWA     CORBIES. 

"There  were  twa  corbies  sat  on  a  tree, 
Large  and  black  as  black  might  be ; 
And  one  the  other  'gan  say, 
'  Where  shall  we  go  and  dine  to-day  ? 


THE   BLACKWATER    VILLA.  155 

Shall  we  dine  by  the  wild  salt  sea  ? 

Shall  we  go  dine  'neath  the  greenwood-tree  ?' 

" '  As  I  sat  on  the  deep  sea-sand, 
I  saw  a  fair  ship  nigh  at  land : 
I  waved  my  wings,  I  bent  my  beak  — 
The  ship  sank,  and  I  heard  a  shriek ! 
There  they  lie,  Dne,  two,  and  three  — 
I  shall  dine  by  the  wild  salt  sea.' 

"  'Come,  I  will  show  you  a  sweeter  sight  — 
A  lonesome  glen  and  a  new-slain  knight : 
His  blood  yet  on  the  grass  is  hot, 
His  sword  half-drawn,  his  shafts  unshot, 
And  no  one  kens  that  he  lies  there, 
But  his  hawk,  his  hound,  and  his  lady-fair  1 

" '  His  hound  is  to  the  hunting  gane, 
His  hawk  to  fetch  the  wild-fowl  hame, 
His  lady's  away  with  another  mate, 
So  we  shall  make  our  dinner  sweet; 
Our  dinner's  sure,  our  feasting  free  — 
Come  and  dine  by  the  greenwood-tree. 

"'Ye  shall  sit  on  his  white  hause-bane, 
I  will  pick  out  his  bonny  blue  e'en ; 
Ye'll  take  a  tress  of  his  yellow  hair, 
To  theak  your  nest  when  it  grows  bare  ; 
The  gowden  down  on  his  young  chin 
Will  do  to  sewe  my  young  ones  in. 

" '  Oh,  cauld  and  bare  will  his  bed  be, 
When  winter  storms  sing  in  the  tree ! 
At  his  head  a  turf,  at  his  feet  a  stone  — 
He  will  sleep,  nor  hear  the  maiden's  moan : 
O'er  his  white  bones  the  birds  shall  fly, 
The  wild  deer  bound,  and  foxes  cry  !' " 

"This  thing  is  getting  intolerable!"  exclaimed 
Galen. 

"  It  must  be  put  an  end  to !"  said  But. 


156  THE   BLACKWATER   CHRONICLE. 

"  Perhaps,"  observed  Guy,  "  you  might  prefer  to 
hear  the  ballad  of  <  Harold  the  Grim.'  That's  a  bal 
lad,  now,  for  such  a  night  as  this  !  I  think  I  could 
pitch  it  to  the  <  Infernal  Waltz'  in  <  Kobert  the 
Devil.'  Touch  us  the  strain,  Signor." 

Here  the  Signor  let  himself  loose  upon  the  waltz, 
and  went  on  into  the  opera  in  general,  joined  at 
length  by  Mr.  Butcut  and  our  whole  orchestra  — 
Powell  and  Conway  smoking  their  pipes  all  the 
while  in  utter  amazement  at  the  effect  produced. 
This  led  to  the  performance  of  divers  other  pieces 
from  the  other  operas,  in  executing  which,  "  Harold 
the  Grim,"  and  the  wail  of  the  forest,  and  the  sad 
murmur  of  the  Blackwater,  were  all  forgotten  for 
the  time. 

This  spirited  defiance  of  our  condition  did  not 
last.  It  was  but  a  temporary  rising  up  ;  and,  tired 
out,  we  laid  ourselves  down  upon  the  hemlock,  and 
again  gave  way  to  the  Ossianly  influences  of  the 
forest.  The  owls  by  this  time  began  to  hoot  about 
in  alternate  question  and  answer.  "  "Whoo-whoo- 
whoo-whoo  are  you?"  said  one,  and  another  an 
swered  with  a  hollow,  short  laugh  —  "Whoo-oo- 
oo-oo  ! — whoo-oo-oo-oo  !"  Certain  now  that  the 
owls  were  beginning  to  come  about  us  —  attracted, 
no  doubt,  by  the  cooking  of  the  camp — we  expected, 
the  next  thing,  to  hear  of  the  approach  of  the  bears 
and  panthers  in  our  neighborhood.  The  smell  of 
the  bacon  and  grease  of  our  kitchen  would  undoubt- 


THE   BLACKWATER   VILLA.  157 

edly  bring  these  gentlemen  around  us  sometime  in 
the  night ;  it  might  be,  indeed,  that  our  own  meat 
would  draw  them :  and  in  the  event  of  its  turning 
out  a  night  of  rain,  why  then  our  fire  might  be 
drenched  out,  and  there  would  be  nothing  to  keep 
the  animals  from  coming  in  upon  us. 

In  the  meantime,  however,  these  thoughts  natu 
rally  arising  in  the  mind,  Triptolemus  lifted  up  his 
voice,  and  of  his  own  accord — in  a  somewhat  dis 
cordant  tone,  in  keeping  with  the  rude  character  of 
the  rhythm — chanted  the  ditty  of 

BANGUM     AND     THE     WILD-BOAR. 

"  There  is  a  wild-boar  in  the  wood, 

Killum-coo,  Con ! 
There  is  a  wild-boar  in  the  wood, 
He'll  eat  your  meat  and  drink  your  blood  — 

Cut  him  down ! 

Cut  him  down  1 

"  Bangum  vowed  that  he  would  ride, 

Killum-coo,  Con ! 

Bangum  vowed  that  he  would  ride, 
With  sword  and  pistol  by  his  side, 

Cut  him  down ! 

Cut  him  down ! 

"  He  tracked  the  wild-boar  to  his  den, 

Killum-coo,  Con ! 

He  tracked  the  wild-boar  to  his  den, 
And  there  he  saw  the  bones  of  ten  thousand  men, 

Cut  him  down ! 

Cut  him  down ! 

"  They  fought  three  hours  by  the  day, 
Killum-coo,  Con ! 


158  THE   BLACKWATER   CHRONICLE. 

They  fought  three  hours  by  the  day, 
Till  at  last  the  wild-boar  —  he  ran  away, 

Cut  him  down  I 

Cut  him  down  1" 

This  delightful  ballad  of  "  Bangum  and  the  Boar" 
Trip  sang  all  to  himself,  for  by  this  time  we  were 
about  getting  to  sleep.  "Whether  this  version  is  a 
correct  one,  Heaven  only  knows !  But  we  give  it 
here  as  Trip  sang  it,  and  the  probability  therefore 
is  that  it  is  a  good  deal  mixed  up.  Be  this  as  it 
may,  it  is  a  very  remarkable  lyric,  and  worthy  of 
being  preserved  in  this  chronicle  as  a  specimen  of 
our  earlier  and  ruder  song. 

About  this  time  some  drops  of  rain  fell  down 
heavily  upon  the  leaves  of  the  forest — premonitory 
of  what  was  in  store  for  us ;  and  in  five  minutes 
more,  we,  our  camp,  and  everything  around,  were 
drenched.  As  it  seemed  to  be  a  rather  settled, 
steady  pouring  down  of  the  clouds,  without  any 
wind  or  noise  of  any  sort  about  it  —  and  as  there 
was  no  help  for  it,  the  hunters  secured  the  fire  as 
well  as  they  could  (covering  it  over  partially  with 
some  pieces  of  hemlock-bark) ;  when,  rooting  our 
selves  about  among  each  other  like  a  litter  of  pigs 
in  a  barnyard,  we  soon  fell  asleep,  in  defiance  of 
the  pitiless  elements. 


THE  FALLS  OF  THE  BLACKWATER.       159 


CHAPTEK   XII. 

THE   FALLS    OF    THE   BLACKWATER. 

UNDISTURBED  by  any  of  the  wild  beasts,  we  slept 
through  the  rain  until  broad  daylight,  when  we 
crawled  out  of  our  litter,  and  started  the  nearly- 
extinguished  fire.  The  rain  had  ceased  to  fall  some 
time  in  the  night ;  but  the  mist  covered  the  mount 
ains  and  enveloped  the  river ;  the  forest  was  every 
where  dripping  wet,  and  for  a  while  it  was  rather 
cheerless  as  we  sat  drooping  before  the  slow  fire. 
Soon,  however,  the  flames  took  hold  of  the  wood, 
and,  as  the  blaze  spread,  our  spirits  revived. 

The  worst  possible  thing  for  a  man  to  do,  under 
any  circumstances,  is  to  sit  down  and  droop :  the 
very  best,  all  the  philosophers  agree,  is  to  go  to 
work.  So  we  picked  up  the  hatchets  and  axe,  and 
soon  had  a  wagon-load  of  young  hemlocks  and  firs 
upon  the  fire,  making  a  flame  that  dried  the  atmo 
sphere  all  around  our  villa.  In  doing  this,  it  was 
discovered  that  we  were  as  supple  of  joint  and 
limb  as  if  we  had  slept  in  moonshine ;  and  when 
Triptolemus  looked  for  his  cold  (which  he  had 
brought  with  him  into  the  country),  and  couldn't 


160  THE   BLACKWATER   CHRONICLE. 

find  it — and  Mr.  Butcut  felt  himself  lighter  and 
freer  in  body  than  he  had  done  since  he  started — • 
it  would  have  puzzled  any  one,  corning  fresh  among 
us,  to  believe  that  we  had  slept  out  all  night  in  the 
open  air,  in  a  drenching  rain. 

After  breakfast,  however,  going  beyond  the  en 
campment,  and  seeing  everything  still  wet  and  un 
comfortable,  the  hearts  of  some  of  the  party  began 
to  fail  them — and  it  was  proposed  that  we  should 
strike  our  camp  for  home. 

"  What !  and  not  explore  the  stream,  after  com 
ing  out  all  the  way  here  for  the  purpose!  —  No  — 
not  so,"  said  the  artist,  who  wished  to  sketch  the 
falls. 

"  JSTot  so,"  repeated  the  Master,  who  wished  to 
take  some  of  the  larger  trout  of  the  Blackwater. 

"  And  you  mean,  then,  to  keep  us  out  here  another 
night  in  the  rain  !"  exclaimed  Peter.  "  I  won't  sub 
mit  to  it!" 

"  I  should  rather  think  we  have  had  enough  of 
it,"  said  Galen  —  the  idea  of  another  night  of  rain 
destroying  his  romance  a  little. 

"  What  do  you  say,  Trip  ?     Are  you  satisfied  ?" 

"  Ugh — uh !"  replied  Trip  ;  but  whether  he  meant 
yes  or  no,  was  only  to  be  got  at  from  his  counte 
nance —  which  was  rather  down. 

"  It  will  read  badly  in  our  annals,  gentlemen," 
observed  the  Master,  "  to  go  back  without  explo 
ring  the  falls.  Besides,  I  want  to  get  in  among  the 


THE  FALLS  OF  THE  BLACKWATER.       161 

large  fish.     We  have  caught  nothing  to  call  a  trout 
yet!" 

"  We  have  seen  all  the  falls  we  are  going  to  see," 
said  Peter. 

"  What's  your  opinion  as  to  that,  Powell  ?" 
"  There  are  certainly  larger  falls,  gentlemen,  some 
where  down  below  us.     These  couldn't  make  all  the 
roar  we  have  heard  out  here  —  could  they,  Cona- 

?** 
^    ' 

"That's  onpossible,"  replied  Conway. 

"  Gentlemen,  I  am  really  suffering  very  much  out 
here — this  climate  don't  agree  with  me !"  said  Pe 
ter,  pathetically. 

"  You  look  ill,  But  I" 

Peter  smiled  faintly  at  this.  It  was  the  first  trace 
of  anything  of  the  kind  that  had  illumined  his  coun 
tenance  since  day  dawned. 

The  reader  will  perceive,  from  the  above  conver 
sation  —  which  will  serve  as  a  sample  of  a  very  con 
siderable  discussion,  involving  the  breaking  up  of 
the  expedition  at  this  point  —  that  some  of  us  had 
enough  of  the  wilderness.  Although  we  were  all 
perfectly  unharmed  by  the  exposure  of  the  last 
night,  yet  the  recollection  of  it  affected  the  mind 
unpleasantly,  and  suggested  visions  of  the  comfort 
of  Towers's  hostel,  which  made  against  any  very 
strong  wish  to  remain  out  another  night  —  such 
night  in  our  Blackwater  villa.  But  the  secret  of 
this  desire  to  leave  was  attributable  to  the  fact  that 


162  THE   BLACKWATER    CHRONICLE. 

the  sun  had  not  yet  risen  high  enough  to  clear  the 
hilltops,  and  disperse  the  mists  and  fogs  of  the 
morning,  which  after  such  a  night  of  rain,  had  en 
veloped  everywhere  the  beautiful  world  around. 
Let  but  the  sun  shine  awhile,  and  the  glory  of  the 
rhododendron — the  beauty  of  light  and  shade — 
the  splendor  of  the  living  green  of  the  wild  —  the 
sheen  and  the  sparkle  of  the  waters  —  the  summer- 
morning  breeze  —  the  song  of  the  birds — all  the 
glories  of  the  month  of  June  in  the  mountains — all 
these  must  enter  into  the  heart,  and  bring  gladness 
to  despair  itself.  As  it  was,  the  Master  and  the 
Signor  rather  bad  But,  and  Galen,  and  Trip,  in  their 
power;  for  the  two  hunters,  it  was  very  evident, 
were  keen-set  for  the  exploration  of  the  falls.  No 
one  up  here  knew  anything  about  these  falls,  other 
than  the  conjecture  of  their  existence :  at  any  rate, 
there  was  no  known  man  who  had  seen  them.  The 
pride  of  discovery,  therefore,  operated  on  the  hunt 
ers  ;  and  it  was  apparent  that  all  Andante  and  the 
Master  had  to  do,  was  to  say  the  word,  and  they 
couldn't  be  bribed  to  go  back.  However,  the  sun 
began  to  shine  out  about  this  time,  breaking  through 
the  mists  of  the  valley ;  and  it  was  agreed  that  the 
exploring  party  should  go  out,  while  the  others 
would  amuse  themselves  fishing  or  shooting  in  the 
neighborhood  of  the  camp,  and,  if  they  tired  of  that, 
occupy  themselves  in  ornamenting  our  villa,  and  in 
improving  its  sleeping-apartment  with  a  roof — so 


THE  FALLS  OF  THE  BLACKWATER.        163 

that,  in  case  we  abode  here  another  night,  we  might 
be  able  to  sleep  without  being  drenched  with  the 
rain. 

In  accordance  with  this  arrangement,  the  Master 
and  the  artist,  with  Powell  and  Conway,  prepared 
themselves  for  the  day,  and  set  out  on  their  enter 
prise  of  discovery.  The  heavens  seemed  to  favor 
us,  for  we  had  scarce  yet  filed  into  the  stream,  when 
the  sun  broke  through  the  vapor  of  the  valley  and 
lit  up  the  windings  of  the  little  river,  until  it  shone 
all  resplendent  of  gold,  and  amber,  and  snow-white 
foam.  It  was  as  if  some  celestial  light  had  sud 
denly  illumined  the  dripping  and  cheerless  Canaan, 
and  we  went 

"  On  our  way  attended 
By  the  vision  splendid." 

Some  short  distance  below  the  camp,  when  in  the 
middle  of  a  small,  grassy  island,  we  saw  a  large  doe 
standing  about  fifty  yards  below  us,  among  a  group 
of  rocks  in  the  middle  of  the  stream,  where  she  was 
browsing  upon  the  moss.  Presently  she  saw  us, 
and  raised  her  head,  standing  motionless  and  lost 
in  wonder — irresolute  as  Ariadne  when  she  was 
about  to  fly. 

"She  has  fawns,"  whispered  Powell,  "back  in 
the  laurel,  and  has  left  them  for  a  while,  to  come 
down  into  the  river  to  drink,  and  eat  the  moss  upon 
the  rocks." 

"  Don't  stir,"  whispered  Conway.     "  Keep  still  as 


164  THE   BLACKWATER   CHRONICLE. 

you  can,  till  I  go  back  to  the  camp  and  get  my  rifle. 
It's  an  elegant  shot !" 

The  Master  clapped  his  hands,  and  the  deer  bound 
ed  in  about  two  leaps  to  the  bank  of  the  river,  and 
disappeared — vanished. 

"No,  Conway,"  said  the  Master,  "you  wouldn't 
kill  that  beautiful  creature,  in  cold  blood !" 

"We  hunters,"  replied  the  old  forester,  in  some 
amazement,  "  don't  think  about  their  beauty,  Mr. 
Philips ;  it's  their  meat  we  look  at." 

"  It's  as  well  not  to  have  shot  it,  Conaway,"  said 
Powell.  "  She  has  fawns  over  there  in  the  laurel." 

"  How  do  you  know  that  ?"  asked  the  Signor. 

"Why,  come  down  to  the  place,  and  I'll  show 
you." 

We  moved  down  to  the  rocks  and  halted.  "  You 
see,"  said  Powell,  "  here  are  the  tracks  of  that  deer 
coming  into  the  water,  and  here  they  are  going  out. 
That  shows,  you  see,  that  she  went  out  the  same 
way  she  came  in." 

"Yes." 

"  You  observed  she  turned  round  to  jump  out  of 
the  river." 

"Yes." 

"Well,  we  hunters  reason  from  this,  that  she 
must  have  fawns  over  here  in  the  laurel,  or  she 
would  have  taken  out  on  the  other  side  —  which 
was  natural,  as  she  was  standing  with  her  head  that 
way.  -  What  made  her  turn  to  get  out  the  same  way 


THE  PALLS  OF  THE  BLACKWATEK.      165 

she  came  in?  Something  turned  her;  and  as  it  is 
about  the  time  now  they  have  their  fawns,  I  say  it 
was  to  get  back  to  them." 

"  The  reasoning's  good,"  replied  the  Signor. 

"  I  am  satisfied,"  observed  the  Master,  "  and  have 
learned  a  little  more  of  the  lore  of  the  forest  than  I 
knew  before." 

"  If  it  was  worth  while,"  said  Powell,  "  I  would 
go  into  the  laurel  and  get  the  fawns  for  you.  But 
if  there  is  anything  I  don't  like,  it  is  laurel." 

Of  course,  we  had  no  idea  of  encumbering  our 
selves  with  the  fawns  ;  so  we  pursued  our  way  down 
the  stream — now  up  to  our  knees  in  the  water  — 
now  stooping  under  some  great  tree  that  had  fallen 
across  the  stream  —  again  along  the  banks,  as  they 
presented  a  better  footway  • — now  through  the  little 
meadows  of  luxuriant  grass  that  skirted  the  shores 
of  the  stream  —  over  islands  of  great  rocks  —  break 
ing  into  the  laurel  to  get  round  some  hanging  cliffs 
—  sometimes  stepping  on  a  slippery  stone,  and  go 
ing  down  soused  all  over  in  the  water — until  at 
length,  some  two  miles  below  our  camp,  we  came 
to  the  second  falls.  These  are  twelve  feet  high  —  a 
clear  pitch,  and  in  the  shape  of  a  horseshoe.  The 
pool  below  them  looked  deep  and  dark,  spotted  with 
flakes  of  white  foam  and  bubbles,  and  no  doubt 
contained  some  large-sized  trout.  We  did  not  stop, 
however,  to  test  it,  but  proceeded  on  our  course. 

The  sun  by  this  time  had  risen  high  above  the 


166  THE   BLACKWATER   CHRONICLE. 

mountains,  and  was  shining  down  upon  the  Canaan 
with  all  his  refulgence.  The  river  was  ever  turning 
in  its  course,  and  every  few  moments  some  new 
charm  of  scenery  was  given  to  our  view.  The  at 
mosphere  was  soft  and  pleasantly  warm,  and  the 
breeze  gently  fanned  the  trees.  The  wilderness  was 
rich  everywhere  with  hues  of  all  dyes,  and  the  banks 
of  the  river  gleamed  for  miles  with  the  flowers  of 
the  rhododendron.  A  scene  of  more  enchantment 
it  would  be  difficult  to  imagine.  The  forest  with  its 
hues  of  all  shades  of  green  —  the  river  of  delicate 
amber,  filled  with  flakes  of  snow-white  foam  —  and 
the  splendor  of  the  rhododendron  everywhere  in  your 
eye.  Picture  all  this  in  the  mind — then  remember 
that  you  were  far  beyond  the  limits  of  the  world 
you  had  known — and  say,  was  it  of  heaven,  or  was 
it  of  earth ! 

Such  pure,  unalloyed  charm  of  soul  as  we  felt 
that  morning,  it  would  be  worth  any  hardship  to 
enjoy.  No  disturbing  thought  had  any  place  in 
the  mind.  It  seemed  that  we  had  entered  into  a 
new  existence,  that  was  one  of  some  land  of  vision. 
As  for  the  world  we  had  left,  it  was  as  unknown  to 
our  thoughts  as  if  we  had  never  heard  of  it ;  it  was 
absolutely  lapsed  from  all  memory,  and  nothing  but 
the  beauty  and  the  bliss  of  the  untrodden  Canaan 
entered  into  our  hearts. 

As  for  myself — without  pretending  to  speak  at 
all  for  the  Master,  or  the  Signor,  or  the  two  hunters 


THE  FALLS  OF  THE  BLACKWATER.       167 

—I  am  certain  I  had  no  idea  of  having  ever  been 
born  of  woman  —  no  idea  of  having  ever  known  a 
passion  of  mortal  joy  or  sorrow :  I  was  some  crea 
tion  of  an  undiscovered  paradise  (hitherto  undreamed 
of  even)  altogether,  for  those  few  hours  of  a  new 
soul.  And  it  seems  to  me  now,  when  I  revert  my 
thoughts  to  that  morning's  exploration  of  the  Black- 
water,  that  all  the  divinities  of  old  fable  must  have 
had  their  dwelling-place  out  there  ;  that  surely  Pan 
and  Faunus  dwelt  in  those  wilds ;  that  Diana  lived 
there,  and  Latmos,  on  whose  top  she  nightly 
kissed  the  boy  Endymion,  was  the  mountain  that 
bordered  the  Black  water  ;  that  Yenus — she  of  the 
sea  —  Anadyomene,  sometimes  left  the  sea-foam  and 
reposed  her  charms  in  the  amber  flow  of  the  river ; 
that  Diana  the  huntress,  with  all  her  attendant 
nymphs,  pursued  those  beautiful  deer  I  saw ;  that 
the  naiads  dwelt  in  the  streams,  and  the  sylphs  lived 
in  the  air,  and  the  dryads  and  hamadryads  in  the 
woods  around  ;  that  Egeria  had  her  grotto  nowhere 
else  but  in  the  Canaan  —  all  the  beautiful  creations 
of  old  poesy,  the  spirits  or  gods  that  now 

"No  longer  live  in  the  faith  of  reason," — 

all  were  around  me  in  the  unknown  wild — 

"  The  intelligible  forms  of  ancient  poets, 
The  fair  humanities  of  old  religion, 
The  power,  the  beauty,  and  the  majesty, 
That  had  their  haunts  in  dale  or  piny  mountain, 
Or  forest  by  slow  stream,  or  pebbly  spring, 
Or  chasms  and  watery  depths." 


168  THE   BLACKWATER   CHRONICLE. 

—  Sometimes  the  fancy  has  possessed  me  that '  I 
saw  Undine  sitting  in  all  her  beauty  by  the  foam 
of  the  little  Niagara,  the  most  beautiful  of  all  the 
falls.  Sometimes,  too,  I  have  seen  Bonny  Kil- 
meney — who  was 

"  As  pure  as  pure  could  be" — 

sleeping  on  the  purple  and  gold-cushioned  rocks, 
even  as  the  Shepherd  Poet  has  so  exquisitely  cre 
ated  her — her  bosom  heaped  with  flowers,  and  love 
ly  beings  of  the  spirit  world  infusing  their  thoughts 
of  heaven  into  her  spotless  soul — her 

"  Joup  of  the  lilly  sheen, 
Her  bonny  snood  of  the  birk  sae  green, 
And  those  roses,  the  fairest  that  ever  were  seen." 

All  these  images,  and  many  more  innumerable,  of 
the  creations  of  the  genius  of  mankind,  are  asso 
ciated  in  my  mind,  henceforth  and  for  ever,  with 
the  Blackwater ;  and  although  I  am  fully  aware 
that  in  here  giving  expression  to  these  fancies,  I 
run  some  little  risk  of  stamping  this  historic  narra 
tive  with  the  character  of  fiction,  yet  the  judicious 
reader  will  observe  that  this  chronicle  was  intended 
in  its  inception  to  be  an  impress  of  the  body  and 
soul  of  the  expedition  —  the  motions  and  affections 
of  the  mind  were  to  be  recorded,  as  well  as  the  mo 
tions  and  affections  of  the  body  —  therefore  he  will 
see  that  it  is  all  in  keeping  with  the  high  aim  of 
our  undertaking.  In  accordance,  then,  with  this 


THE  FALLS  OF  THE  BLACKWATER.       169 

just  view  of  things,  I  have  no  hesitation  in  writing 
it  down  here,  that  the  whole  expedition  felt  them 
selves  in  a  paradise  all  the  morning;  and  I  will 
take  this  occasion  to  observe  in  regard  to  myself 
especially,  that  I  know  something  of  the  joys  of 
this  world — have  had  my  reasonable  share,  and 
more  too,  of  the  joy  that  comes  of  passion — but 
that  perfect  bliss  of  the  soul — that  feeling  of  entire 
happiness,  which  has  no  taint  of  our  mortal  lot  in  it 
—  which  is  beatific,  such  as  an  angel  ever  lives  in, 
I  never  had  any  distinct  idea  of — never  anything 
but  a  glimmering,  vague,  mystified  conjecture  of, 
until  I  felt  the  heaven  of  that  morning  down  the 
exquisite  stream. 

The  reader  no  doubt  is  a  little  startled  at  this 
apparent  extravagance,  but  let  him  restrain  him 
self.  It  is  all  true,  every  word  of  it — as  near  as 
any  felicities  of  the  English  language  will  convey  a 
meaning ;  and  although  he  may  deem  the  brain  of 
the  chronicler  of  the  expedition  a  little  turned  (by 
thunder  may  be),  yet  I  call  confidently  upon  Mr. 
Butcut,  upon  Adolphus,  upon  the  Master  of  St. 
Philip's,  upon  Triptolemus  Todd,  Esq.,  upon  the 
Signor,  and  the  two  hunters,  to  say  if  it  does  not 
but  poorly  convey  to  their  minds  the  feelings  they 
experienced.  Why,  Mr.  Butcut,  forgetful  of  all 
his  sufferings,  grows  enthusiastic  when  he  thinks 
of  the  Blackwater,  even  at  this  day;  and  Trip 
chuckles  from  ear  to  ear,  with  a  joyous  ugh  —  uh  ! 

8 


170  THE    BLACKWATER   CHRONICLE. 

if  you  but  point  your  finger  in  the  direction  of  the 
Alleganies ! 

While  we  have  stopped  to  dilate  a  little  on  the 
heavenly  delights  of  the  Canaan,  the  exploring  ex 
pedition  did  not  stop,  but  wound  its  way  down  the 
bed  of  the  stream ;  and  presently  turning  a  rocky 
promontory  that  jutted  the  mountain  side,  the 
Blackwater,  some  hundred  yards  ahead,  seemed  to 
have  disappeared  entirely  from  the  face  of  the 
earth,  leaving  nothing  visible  down  the  chasm 
through  which  it  vanished,  but  the  tops  of  fir-trees 
and  hemlocks  —  and  there  stood  on  the  perilous 
edge  of  a  foaming  precipice,  on  a  broad  rock  high 
above  the  flood,  the  Signor  Andante  (who  had  gone 
a-head),  demeaning  himself  like  one  who  had  lost 
his  senses,  his  arms  stretched  out  wide  before  him, 
and  at  the  top  of  his  voice  (which  couldn't  be 
heard  for  the  roar  and  tumult  around  him),  pouring 
forth  certain  extravagant  and  very  excited  utter 
ances  ;  all  that  could  be  made  out  of  which,  as  the 
rest  drew  close  to  his  side,  was  something  or  other 
about 

"  The  cataract  of  Lodore 

Pealing  its  orisons," 

and  other  fragments  of  sublime  madness  about  cat 
aracts  and  waterfalls,  to  be  found  at  large  in  the 
writings  of  the  higher  bards. 

Not  stopping  at  all  to  benefit  by  the  poetic  and 
otherwise  inspired  outpouring  of  the  wild  and  appa- 


THE   FALLS    OF   THE   BLACKWATER. 

rently  maddened  artist,  thus  venting  himself  to  the 
admiring  rocks  and  mountains  and  tumbling  waters 
around,  the  expedition  stepped  out  upon  the  fur 
thest  verge  and  very  pinnacle  of  the  foaming  bat 
tlements,  and  gazed  upon  the  sight,  so  wondrous 
and  so  wild,  thus  presented  to  their  astonished 
eyes. 

No  wonder  that  the  Signer  demeaned  himself 
with  so  wild  a  joy  :  for 

"All  of  wonderful  and  wild, 
Had  rapture  for  the  artist  child ;" 

and  perhaps  in  all  this  broad  land  of  ours,  whose 
wonders  are  not  yet  half  revealed,  no  scene  more 
beautifully  grand  ever  broke  on  the  eye  of  poet  or 
painter,  historian  or  forester.  The  Blackwater  here 
evidently  breaks  its  way  sheer  down  through  one 
of  the  ribs  of  the  backbone  of  the  Alleganies.  The 
chasm  through  which  the  river  forces  itself  thus 
headlong  tumultuous  down,  is  just  wide  enough  to 
contain  the  actual  breadth  of  the  stream.  On 
either  side,  the  mountains  rise  up,  almost  a  perpen 
dicular  ascent,  to  the  height  of  some  six  hundred 
feet.  They  are  covered  down  their  sides,  to  the 
very  edge  of  the  river,  with  the  noblest  of  firs  and 
hemlocks,  and  as  far  as  the  eye  can  see,  with  the 
laurel  in  all  its  most  luxuriant  growth  —  befitting 
undergrowth  to  such  noble  growth  of  forest,  where 
every  here  and  there  some  more  towering  and  vast 
Balsam  fir,  shows  his  grand  head,  like 


172  THE    BLACKWATER    CHRONICLE. 

"  Caractacus  in  act  to  rally  his  host" 

From  the  brink  of  the  falls,  where  we  now  stand, 
it  is  a  clear  pitch  of  some  forty  feet.  Below,  the 
water  is  received  in  a  large  bowl  of  some  fifteen  or 
twenty  feet  in  depth,  and  some  sixty  or  eighty  feet 
across.  Beyond  this,  the  stream  runs  narrow  for  a 
short  distance,  bound  in  by  huge  masses  of  rock 
—  some  of  them  cubes  of  twenty  feet  —  then  pitches 
down  another  fall  of  some  thirty  feet  of  shelving 
descent — then  on  down  among  other  great  rocks, 
laying  about  in  every  variety  of  shape  and  size  —  all 
the  time  falling  by  leaps  of  more  or  less  descent, 
until  it  comes  to  something  like  its  usual  level  of 
running  before  it  begins  the  pitch  down  the  moun 
tain.  This  level  of  the  stream,  however,  is  but 

"  The  torrent's  smoothness  ere  it  dash  below  ;" 

for  it  leads  you  to  a  second  large  fall,  a  clear  pitch 
again  of  some  forty  feet.  From  the  top  of  this  you 
look  down  some  two  hundred  feet  more  of  such 
shelving  falls  and  leaping  descent,  as  we  have  de 
scribed  above,  until  you  come  again  to  another 
short  level  of  the  stream.  This,  in  its  turn,  is  the 
approach  to  another  large  fall.  Here  the  river 
makes  a  clear  leap  again  of  about  some  thirty 
feet,  into  another  deep  basin ;  and  looking  on 
below  you,  you  see  some  two  hundred  feet  or 
more  of  like  shelving  falls  and  rapid  rush-down  of 
the  stream,  as  followed  upon  the  other  large  falls. 


THE  FALLS  OF  THE  BLACKWATER.       1Y3 

Getting  down  below  all  these,  the  river  having 
now  tumbled  headlong  down  some  six  hundred 
feet,  more  or  less,  in  somewhere  about  a  mile,  it 
makes  a  bend  in  its  course,  along  the  base  of  the 
mountain  to  the  left,  and  mingles  its  amber  waters 
with  the  darker  now  of  the  Cheat :  the  Cheat  some 
three  times  the  size  of  the  Blackwater  ;  and  roaring 
down  between  mountains  (twelve  or  fifteen  hun 
dred  feet  sheer  up  above  us),  through,  not  a  val 
ley,  but  a  rocky  and  savage  chasm,  scarcely  wide 
enough  to  hold  the  river. 

It  will  be  perceived  from  this  description,  that 
the  falls  of  the  Blackwater  must  be  extremely 
grand,  picturesque,  and  wild,  in  their  character.  A 
stream  of  good  size,  that  breaks  down  through  one 
of  the  bold  Allegany  mountains  —  a  fall  in  the 
whole,  of  some  six  hundred  feet,  must  affect  the 
mind  grandly.  If,  instead  of  a  beautiful  little  river 
of  some  fifty  feet  in  breadth,  running  some  two  or 
three  feet  deep  in  the  main,  it  were  as  large  as  the 
Cheat,  the  predominating  sense  of  the  beautiful 
that  now  belongs  to  it,  would  be  lost  in  the  terror 
it  would  inspire.  As  it  is,  let  the  floods  get  out  in 
the  mountains — let  the  snows  of  winter  linger  on  in 
the  Alleganies  into  the  spring ;  and  all  at  once  let 
the  south  wind  blow,  and  the  sun  returning  higher 
up  this  way,  pour  down  his  rays ;  then  would  you 
behold  such  a  mad  rush  and  tumult  of  waters,  roar 
ing  down  the  Alleganies,  as  would  strike  such 


174:  THE   BLACKWATER   CHRONICLE. 

awe  into  your  soul,  as  not  even  Niagara,  in  all 
his  diffused  vastness,  could  impress  you  with.  But, 
then,  it  would  be  no  longer  the  exquisite  Black- 
water,  filling  the  mind  with  so  wondrous  and  wild 
a  sense  of  beauty,  that  now  makes  it  a  picture,  such 
as  no  son  of  genius,  who  had  once  hung  it  up  in  the 
galleries  of  his  brain,  would  ever  take  down. 

But  enough  of  comment.  We  will  leave  the  falls 
to  the  imagination  of  the  reader,  who  can  now  work 
up  for  himself,  from  the  sketch  we  have  given,  such 
a  picture  as  will  best  please  him ;  and  go  on  to 
relate  some  little  incidents  of  fishing,  which  we 
hope  will  impart  some  pleasure. 

If  we  remember  aright,  we  left  the  expedition 
standing  on  the  brow  of  the  first  fall,  in  some  con 
siderable  tumult  of  soul  at  the  grand  sight  that  had 
broken  so  suddenly  and  unexpectedly  upon  them ; 
and  the  artist — the  Signor  Andante,  in  a  frenzy 
of  inspiration  — 

"  On  a  rock,  whose  haughty  brow 
Frowns  o'er  Blackwater's  foaming  flood, 
Robed  in  the  ragged  garb  he  wore, 
With  flashing  eyes  the  artist  stood ;" 

now  repeating  wildly  to  the  Blackwater  flood,  the 
fiery  song  which  the  last  of  the  bards  uttered  over 
"  Old  Conway's"  (I  don't  mean  Conway  the  man, 
but  the  river). 

We  are  happy,  however,  in  being  able  to  inform 
all  who  take  any  interest  in  the  artist,  that  he  did 


THE  FALLS  OF  THE  BLACKWATER.       175 

not  conclude  his  rant  in  the  grand  manner  of  the 
last  of  the  bards  ;  who  — 

"Spoke,  and  headlong  from  the  mountain's  height, 
Deep  in  the  roaring  tide,  he  plunged  to  endless  night !" 

No,  Andante,  backed  himself  very  carefully  out  from 
the  edge  of  the  torrent;  and,  very  much  in  accord 
ance  with  our  preconceived  estimate  of  him  as  a 
man  of  sense,  followed  the  hunters  into  the  hang 
ing  side  of  the  mountain,  where  he,  like  the  rest  of 
us,  letting  himself  down  by  clinging  to  the  branches 
of  laurel,  and  sliding  on  his  back  down  the  steep 
rocks,  with  the  aid  of  an  occasional  precarious  foot 
hold,  at  length  succeeded  in  getting  below  the  cata 
ract. 

We  now  prepared  ourselves  for  the  trout.  It  was 
by  this  time,  near  the  middle  of  the  day,  too  late, 
as  we  supposed,  for  any  very  good  fishing ;  for  the 
large  fish  generally  by  this  time  lie  about  in  the 
bed  of  the  streams,  and  are  indifferent  to  the  lure 
of  the  bait.  Notwithstanding  this,  we  had  scarcely 
thrown  our  lines  into  the  deep  water  before  us, 
before  our  bait  was  seized.  The  Master  drew  up 
the  first  fish.  He  had  thrown  in  just  at  the  edge  of 
the  foam  and  spray  of  the  fall,  and  a  quick,  bold 
pull  swept  his  line  through  the  foam.  On  the 
instant,  with  a  switch  of  his  rod  sidewise,  then 
throwing  it  up  aloft,  he  landed,. between  his  thighs 
(for  it  was  water  all  around  him)  a  fine  vigorous 
trout,  breaking  off  about  two  feet  of  the  switch-end 


176  THE   BLACKWATER   CHRONICLE. 

of  his  maple  rod.  This  trout  was  a  foot  long,  and 
some  three  inches  deep  behind  the  shoulders.  Pres 
ently  Powell  drew  out  another  of  about  the  same 
size.  Then  the  artist  brought  out  a  fine  one  from 
•the  bowl.  And  Conway,  who  by  this  time  had 
picked  up  the  best  stick  he  could  find,  and  tied  a 
short  bit  of  sea-weed  to  it  —  squatting  down  on 
his  haunches,  on  a  mossy  rock,  and  looking  the 
picture  of  some  old  sleepy  satyr  of  the  woods,  pulled 
out  his  large  fish  without  a  word  to  anybody.  It 
was  great  work;  and  the  excitement  intense.  In 
the  course  of  a  quarter  of  an  hour  we  had  caught, 
among  all  of  us,  some  twenty  fine  fish — some  of 
them  thirteen  inches  long — and  this  with  no  other 
bait  than  the  common  red  worm.  Indeed,  if  to  take 
a  quantity  of  trout  be  your  only  object,  so  full  is  the 
stream  of  them,  and  so  ravenous  are  they,  that 
with  any  sort  of  a  line,  and  anything  of  a  hook  —  a 
pin-hook  if  you  can  get  no  other — you  may  take  as 
many  as  you  can  carry.  But  our  tackle  was  good, 
and  with  the  exception  of  a  regular  rod  (which  it 
would  have  been  troublesome  to  have  brought 
along  upon  so  difficult  an  enterprise)  we  were 
reasonably  well  provided  for  the  sport.  If  the 
reader  will  bear  it  in  mind,  that  the  Blackwater 
never  in  all  probability  had  a  line  thrown  in  it 
before,  he  need  wonder  at  nothing  we  can  tell  him 
about  the  quantity  of  trout  it  contains,  or  the  greed 
iness  with  which  they  bite  at  any  sort  of  bait. 


THE  FALLS  OF  THE  BLACKWATER.       177 

As  our  purpose  to-day  was  rather  to  explore  the 
falls  than  fish,  we  drew  up  our  lines  and  proceeded 
down  the  torrent.  By  dint  of  much  scrambling, 
and  crawling,  climbing,  leaping,  hanging,  and  every 
other  sort  of  means  you  can  think  of,  of  getting 
yourself  along  —  sometimes  swept  down  by  the 
strength  of  the  current,  and  lodged  in  some  side 
eddy  or  pool  — driving  out  the  trout,  and  getting 
up  and  shaking  yourself,  with  some  two  or  three 
craw-fish,  about  the  size  of  your  hand,  sticking  to 
your  clothes  —  we  made  our  way  down  below  the 
second  of  the  large  falls.  Here  we  fished  again  for 
a  while,  and  caught  some  fifty  more  trout ;  some 
of  us  baiting  our  hooks  with  the  gullets  of  the  fish, 
cut  out  for  that  purpose ;  and  some  with  the  red 
fins,  which  we  would  cut  off  and  use,  by  way  of 
substitute  for  the  fly,  and  which  was  found  to  an 
swer  the  purpose  as  well  as  anything  else. 

Satisfied  with  the  trial  of  the  stream  here,  we 
drew  up,  and  proceeded  down  our  rugged  way. 
Presently,  missing  the  artist,  who  had  gone  ahead 
of  us,  we  were  under  some  apprehension  that  he 
had  fallen  down  some  of  the  rocks,  and  ended  his 
mortal  career,  here  and  elsewhere  —  especially, 
when,  after  repeated  calls,  we  could  hear  no  answer 
from  him.  Moving  down  the  stream,  therefore, 
somewhat  rapidly,  we  came  upon  a  wide  rock, 
over  which  the  water  lay  about  in  pools;  and 
where  we  saw  scattered  about,  high  and  dry,  a 
8* 


178  THE    BLACKWATER    CHRONICLE. 

goodly  number  of  large  trout,  dying  and  dead.  Be 
low  this  rock  the  Signor  had  let  himself  down  some 
ten  feet;  and  standing  on  a  flat  ledge,  enveloped  in 
spray  from  the  water  flowing  down  on  either  side  of 
him,  he  was  intently  engaged  in  hauling  out  from 
a  pool  before  him,  the  fine  trout  we  saw  around 
about  as  fast  as  he  could  bait  his  hook.  He  told 
us  he  had  been  here  only  some  fifteen  minutes ; 
and  when  he  ascended,  without  a  dry  shred  upon 
him,  from  the  watery  grotto  wherein  he  had  en 
shrined  himself,  he  gathered  up  some  sixteen  fish  of 
the  largest  size  we  had  taken  that  day. 

Leaving  our  rods  at  this  point,  we  went  on  as 
rapidly  as  we  could  make  our  way,  down  the  falls, 
and  finished  our  exploration  to  the  mouth  of  the 
Blackwater.  Here,  sitting  down  to  rest,  we  sum 
med  up  our  review  of  the  falls — in  which  we  set 
tled  down  to  the  estimate  above  given,  that  the 
leap-down  of  the  Blackwater  must  be  some  six  hun 
dred  feet,  in  somewhere  about  a  mile.  The  reader 
will  understand  that  this  estimate  is  made,  not  by 
guesswork,  but  upon  some  certain  data;  for  we 
measured  all  the  larger  falls.  It  will  be  perceived, 
however,  that  we  can  not  be  far  wrong  in  our  com 
putation,  when  we  make  the  statement,  that  from 
the  top  of  each  of  the  larger  falls,  you  see,  at  the  dis 
tance  of  a  few  hundred  yards  down  before  you,  the 
tops  of  fir-trees  (their  bodies  not  visible)  peering  up 
like  bushes ;  and  when  you  get  down  to  them,  you 


THE  FALLS  OF  THE  BLACKWATER.       179 

find  they  are  great  trees  of  some  hundred  feet  or 
more  in  height.  Standing  upon  the  top  of  the  first 
large  fall,  you  look  down  upon  some  hundred  and 
fifty  feet  or  more,  of  the  leap-down  of  the  river  — 
going  down,  then,  to  this  point,  you  make  a  turn 
for  some  distance,  and  presently  come  upon  the 
next  large  fall  —  from  the  top  of  which  you  look 
down  upon  about  the  same  descent — and  so  on  to 
the  third.  But  enough.  Let  us  now  go  back. 

About  halfway  up  the  falls  a  thunder-storm  passed 
over  us  ;  and  the  reverberation  down  the  chasm  was 
exceedingly  grand.  Stopping  under  a  hanging 
rock  that  afforded  us  shelter  from  the  storm,  we 
saw  in  the  wet  sand  the  footprints  of  otter,  and 
other  evidences  of  their  inhabiting  the  stream. 
Presently  there  came  a  volleyed  discharge  of  the 
heaven's  cannon ;  and  as  the  roar  muttered  itself 
away  throughout  the  refts  of  the  mountains,  the 
sun  broke  out,  and  we  proceeded  on  our  way  up 
the  steep  ascent — a  rainbow  over-arching  the  wa 
terfalls,  and  the  spray  everywhere  golden  with 
sunbeams.  At  length,  reaching  the  top  of  the 
grand  chasm,  and  standing  again  on  the  brink  of 
the  impending  rocks  where  we  first  hailed  so  rap 
turously,  the  leap-down  of  the  river  —  we  took  a 
last  look  of  the  wild  scene  and  went  on  our  way  to 
the  camp. 

Somewhere  about  five  o'clock  in  the  evening  we 
came  in,  and  depositing  our  spoils  of  the  stream  — 


180  THE    BLACKWATER    CHRONICLE. 

about  a  hundred  and  fifty  fine  trout;  we  eat  and 
recounted  our  adventures  alternately,  until  we  and 
our  audience  grew  tired  and  fell  asleep ;  the  Prior 
murmuring  as  he  went  off,  the  noble  lines  of  By 
ron — 

"  The  Assyrian  came  down  like  a  wolf  on  the  fold, 
And  his  cohorts  were  gleaming  in  purple  and  gold," — 

the  Assyrian  to  his  imagination  being  the  dark  and 
rushing  Cheat,  and  the  cohorts  gleaming  in  purple 
and  gold,  the  golden  Blackwater  and  the  other  glit 
tering  streams  of  the  Canaan. 


HOW    WE    GOT   OUT   OF   THE    CANAAN. 


181 


I 


CHAPTER    XIII. 

HOW    WE    GOT    OUT    OF   THE    CANAAN AND    IN    SPITE 

OF    OUR    TEETH. 

MOKNING  has  dawned  again  upon  the  camp,  and 
with  it  we  arose  to  prepare  for  our  homeward 
inarch.  "We  took  our  last  bath  in  the  Blackwater, 
and  at  breakfast  eat  up  all  that  remained  of  our 
provisions.  Some  of  us,  sated  with  the  trout, 
breakfasted  entirely  upon  the  bacon  that  was  left. 
In  our  hardy  and  rough  life,  the  fish  had  ceased 
to  be  food  to  us,  and  a  beefsteak  would  have  been 


182  THE   BLACKWATER    CHRONICLE. 

the  greatest  of  luxuries.  Had  we  been  prepared 
to  remain  out  longer,  it  will  be  seen,  therefore,  that 
we  would  have  taken  to  killing  the  deer  for  our 
table  —  which  we  only  did  not  do  heretofore,  be 
cause  it  seemed  like  wanton  butchery  to  slay  the 
beautiful  "foresters,"  when  we  had  the  finest  of 
all  fish  that  swim  in  such  abundance.  Everything, 
however,  was  now  gone — the  ham  and  middling 
eaten,  the  last  of  the  coffee  drank  —  and  not  a 
crumb  of  bread  remained.  There  were  about  three 
hundred  trout,  cleaned  and  ready  for  use,  in  our 
kitchen,  but  we  turned  up  our  noses  at  them.  Out 
of  these,  Conway  selected  some  of  the  finest,  and 
making  a  basket  of  the  bark  of  the  fir-tree,  packed 
them  up  to  take  home,  no  one  else  choosing  to  be 
troubled  with  them :  all  the  rest  we  left  on  the  rock 
—  a  feast  for  the  otters,  or  whatever  other  of  the 
wild  inhabitants  of  the  Canaan,  who  were  fond  of 
fish. 

With  our  wallets  strapped  on  our  shoulders,  and 
all  equipped  for  the  march,  we  waited  the  rising  of 
the  sun,  to  marshal  us  the  way  we  should  go  ;  for 
having  no  compass  along,  the  god  of  day  was  our 
only  guide,  preserver,  arid  friend.  Presently,  the 
sun  arose,  "blushing  discontented"  at  the  clouds 
around,  and  Powell,  with  his  rifle  in  one  hand  and 
the  frying-pan  in  the  other,  started  up  from  his 
seat,  followed  first  by  Conway,  then  by  all  of  us— 
and  thus  we  broke  our  way  into  the  laurel,  making 


HOW  WE  GOT  OUT  OF  THE  CANAAN.       183 

straight  up  the  mountain,  that  rose  high  above  us, 
dark  and  dense  with  all  the  green  leaves  of  sum 
mer. 

Reaching  the  top  of  the  ridge,  the  hunters  held 
some  counsel  as  to  their  course ;  and  telling  us, 
confidently,  that  they  would  take  us  to  the  glade 
on  the  Potomac,  where  we  had  left  our  horses,  by 
two  o'clock,  we  strode  through  the  wild  in  high 
spirits  —  even  Peter  vaunting  himself  very  much, 
and  proclaiming  the  glorious  feelings  of  a  life  in 
the  woods.  With  much  jest,  and  a  good  deal  of 
extravagant  utterance  of  one  sort  and  another  — 
some  occasional  practical  remark  in  regard  to  the 
wealth  of  land  and  water  around  us  —  we  went 
careeringly  on  our  way,  like  a  band  of  Indians 
single  file  on  a  war-path,  if  path  that  can  be  called 
where  path  there  was  none. 

In  about  two  hours  of  such  walking,  a  damper 
was  put  on  our  spirits  by  the  announcement  of 
gathering  clouds.  Presently  down  came  the  rain ; 
and  a  little  tired  already  with  the  climbing  up 
and  down  the  mountains,  and  the  rough  and 
tumble  of  it  all  —  the  tumble  done  in  the  main 
by  Trip,  who  fell  along  as  was  his  wont — we 
stopped  at  length  under  a  tree,  until  the  shower, 
as  we  supposed  it,  would  pass  by.  We  sat  here  for 
some  time,  but  the  forest  being  by  this  time  entirely 
wet  —  which  of  course  would  wet  us  in  walking 
through  it  —  we  concluded  that  we  might  as  well 


184:  THE    BLACKWATEK    CHRONICLE. 

take  the  rain  in  one  shape  as  another,  and  proceed 
on  our  way.  But  here  at  once  a  question  arose  as 
to  where  the  way  was,  for  we  had  lost  the  sun  to 
guide  us.  A  right  sharp  debate  took  place,  but 
Powell-  insisting  upon  a  certain  direction,  off  we 
started  —  Peter  beginning  to  show  a  little  gloom 
of  countenance,  and  none  of  us  a  face  of  the  bright 
est.  However,  on  we  went,  forcing  a  spirit  we  did 
not  entirely  feel,  and  after  about  two  hours  more 
of  hard  walking,  all  wet  and  very  well  blown,  we 
came  to  a  halt  at  an  exclamation  made  by  Galen, 
the  purport  of  which  was,  that  a  bent  tree  just  be 
fore  us,  was  the  very  same  bent  tree  that  we  had 
stopped  under  two  hours  ago.  This  was  a  very 
discomforting  remark  to  have  thrust  upon  us,  and 
was  controverted  by  the  whole  party.  And  there 
was  great  difficulty  in  deciding  the  matter,  for  the 
wilderness  is  so  covered  everywhere  with  moss,  and 
so  entirely  trackless,  and  there  are  so  many  places 
that  look  alike,  and  so  many  trees  bent  over  by  the 
storms  all  about,  that  the  fact  of  our  having  been 
here  two  hours  before  was  about  being  decided  in 
the  negative  (the  wish  being  father  to  the  conclu 
sion),  when  the  doctor  discovered  a  cut  in  the  side 
of  a  tree,  where  he  had  stuck  his  hatchet  when  he 
was  here  before. 

This  settled  the  question.  It  was  clear  we  had  been 
walking  the  last  two  hours  in  a  circle,  and  had 
come  back  to  the  point  we  started  from.  Clouds 


HOW    WE    GOT    OUT    OF    THE    CANAAN.  185 

now  gathered  over  the  countenance  of  the  expedi 
tion,  about  as  dark  as  those  over  the  face  of  the 
heavens ;  and  each  one  manifested  himself  accord 
ing  to  his  temper  under  adversities — defied  or  be 
moaned  his  fate.  A  great  disputation  was  imme 
diately  entered  upon,  as  to  where  the  north  was. 
Even  Powell  and  Conway  differed  entirely.  Peter 
vehemently  urged  it  was  here — Triptolemus  con 
tended  it  was  there.  The  Signor  tried  to  make  it 
out  by  the  dark  side  of  the  trees ;  but,  in  the  gloom 
of  the  day,  they  were  on  all  sides  dark.  Galen 
twisted  his  neck  to  no  purpose,  looking  up  for  a 
light  spot  in  the  clouds  by  which  to  place  the  sun. 
The  Prior  said  and  did  nothing,  but  looked  as  if  he 
had  come  to  the  conclusion  that  the  Canaan  had  no 
north. 

"There  is  nothing  clear  at>out  the  whole  mat 
ter,"  exclaimed  Peter,  gloomily,  "  but  that  we  are 
lost!5' 

"That's  clear  as  preaching,"  answered  Trip. 

"  What  an  infernal  idiot  I  was  to  get  into  this 
scrape!"  continued  Peter.  "A  man  with  a  family 
— living  in  ease  and  comfort,  enjoying  the  society 
of  my  friends  —  I  may  say  surrounded  by  every 
thing  a  man  ought  to  desire — in  fact,  more  too  !  — 
But  such  is  man!  —  to  come  out  here  into  this 
crooked  wilderness,  where  there  is  nothing  straight 
— no  paths  —  nothing  leading  anywhere!  Lost  — 
yes,  undoubtedly  lost,  and  with  a  fine  chance  of 


186  THE   BLACKWATEE    CHRONICLE. 

being  either  starved  or  walked  to  death  —  both,  I 
dare  say !" 

"  Or  eaten  by  the  bears,"  said  Trip. 

"  Any  bear  that  attempts  that  game  on  me,"  re 
joined  Peter,  "  would  play  into  my  hand." 

"Gentlemen,"  observed  the  Signer,  "there  is 
nothing  gained  by  staying  here,  that  I  can  see.  I 
propose  that  Conway  take  the  lead,  as  he  and 
Powell  differ  about  the  course.  Let's  try  his  luck, 
and  see  what  will  come  of  it." 

"  Agreed,"  said  Powell ;  "  let  Conaway  try  it :  but 
you  are  going  the  wrong  way.  Here,  more  to  the 
left,  I  say,  we  will  come  upon  the  horses.  Here's 
the  north,  and  here's  northeast — and  northeast  is 
our  course." 

"What  do  you  judge  from,  Powell?  The  skies 
are  all  clouds;  you  can't  judge  by  the  moss,  and 
the  weather-stains  on  the  trees  —  for  they  are  on  all 
sides  alike." 

"Well,  I  can't  say  rightly  what  I  judge  from. 
But  there  is  something  in  the  shape  of  the  hills  — 
the  way  they  slope — and  the  looks  of  the  country, 
that  makes  me  say  here's  the  northeast ;  and  I  be 
lieve  in  an  hour  or  two  we  would  come  right  down 
on  our  horses." 

Powell  was  evidently  very  much  mortified  at  his 
having  walked  us  round  in  a  circle  for  the  last  two 
hours.  But  he  accounted  for  it  satisfactorily  enough, 
by  reminding  us  that  in  sitting  down  here  before, 


HOW    WE    GOT    OUT    OF   THE    CANAAN.  187 

and  shifting  our  position  under  the  trees  to  avoid 
the  rain,  we  had  unconsciously  lost  sight  of  the 
direction  we  were  on ;  and  starting  off  in  the  con 
fusion  of  a  disputation  upon  the  vexed  question  as 
to  where  the  sun  was,  we  had,  without  considera 
tion,  taken  the  direction  we  happened  to  be  facing 
at  the  time.  An  intelligent  man,  like  Powell,  takes 
great  pride  in  his  knowledge  of  the  woods ;  and  in 
proportion  as  he  estimated  his  knowledge  highly,  he 
was  now  greatly  mortified,  as  was  evident  from  his 
whole  bearing.  The  doctor,  seeing  this,  from  the 
kindness  of  his  nature  stepped  in  to  the  mortified 
forester's  relief. 

"  Never  mind  it,  Powell,"  he  observed,  blandly. 
"  It  don't  at  all  impugn  your  woodcraft  in  our  opin 
ion.  Daniel  Boone  himself  would  get  lost  out  here 
in  a  cloudy  day.  But  let  Conway  try  it  for  a  while, 
as  proposed.  It's  just  trying  his  luck,  you  know — 
which  may  fail  too." 

"I  would  rather  Powell  should  keep  the  lead  — 
he  knows  more  about  the  woods  than  I  do,"  said 
old  Conway,  a  little  infirm  of  purpose. 

"  No,  I  have  missed  it  once,"  observed  Powell, 
"  and  it's  but  fair  that  Conway  should  try  it." 

"  It's  no  such  mighty  matter,"  said  Trip  ;  "  I  could 
do  it  myself!" 

"  I'll  bet,"  answered  Peter,  "  that  if  we  were  to 
follow  you,  we  wouldn't  get  five  miles  away  from 
where  we  are  now  standing  in  the  next  three  weeks !" 


188  THE   BLACK  WATER   CHRONICLE. 

"Your  luck.  Trip,"  said  the  Master,  "couldn't 
bring  us  out,  by  possibility,  anywhere  else  than  at 
the  exact  opposite  point  to  that  we  are  aiming  for !" 

"  Ugh  — uh  !"  replied  Trip.  "  If  you  follow  me, 
I'll  hit  the  Fairfax  stone  in  an  hour.  I  feel,  and 
have  felt,  all  the  morning,  somehow,  as  if  it  ought 
to  be  over  here.  And  you  all  know,  gentlemen, 
I've  a  sort  of  lean  that  way." 

"That's  exactly  my  opinion,"  said  Powell.  "I 
would  be  willing  to  bet  on  it,  that  it  is  just  in  the 
direction  Mr.  Todd  says.  That's  the  course  I've 
been  arguing  for  with  Conaway." 

"  Come,  give  up  the  point,  Powell." 

"  Blast  the  crooked  wilderness,  that  I  should  have 
got  turned  around  so !  I  a'n't  worth  anything  any 
longer !" 

"  Never  mind  it,  Powell.     Man  is  prone  to  error." 

"  That's  what  old  Davy  Waddell  says,"  observed 
the  doctor. 

"How  was  that,  Adolphus?" 

"  You  all  know  Davy,  gentlemen — " 

"Yes  —  a  very  shrewd,  clear-headed  man." 

"  And  a  very  original  one." 

"  The  state  hasn't  a  more  remarkable  one  in  its 
limits." 

"That's  a  risky  remark  —  there  are  so  many  of 
them  !  But  what  about  Davy  ?" 

"  Well,  I'll  tell  you,"  resumed  the  doctor.  "  Some 
years  ago,  I  was  at  the  races  down  at  Baltimore  — 


HOW  WE  GOT  OUT  OF  THE  CANAAN.      189 

about  the  time  the  Central  club  was  in  its  hey-dav 
-before   racing  had   died   down    in    the   country. 
Stevens's  4  Black  Maria'  had  beaten  the  Southern 
horse  in  the  great  race  of  the  season.     But  a  race 
was  made  by  Colonel  Johnson,  to  run  'Trifle'  against 
the  Northern  mare  the  next  day.     Trifle  was  then 
young,  and  pretty  much  unknown.     Trifle  beat  the 
race.     There  was  a  great  deal  of  excitement  about, 
and  a  good  deal  of  money  lost  and  won.     After  the 
race  was  over,  I  walked  up  to  the  hotel,  where  there 
was  a  great  crowd,  and  a  good  deal  of  loud  talking, 
laughing,  and  paying  over  of  money,  going  on.     In 
the  midst  of  all  this  melee,  Davy's  voice  sounded 
high  above  it  all,  and  compelled  attention.    It  seems 
that  the  most  of  the  betters  had  staked  upon  Black 
Maria  — and  very  naturally  too,  for  she  had  won  the 
race  of  the  day  before  against  one  of  Johnson's  best 
horses  — the  'Bonnets  of  Blue,'  I  believe.     Davy, 
however,  had  bet  on  Trifle,  and  of  course  he  won! 
He  was  accordingly  in  high  spirits,  and  was  conso 
ling  the  losers  by  explaining  to  them  how  prone  man 
was  to  arrar,  as  he  called  it: — 

"  <  Gentlemen,  I  tell  you,  you  needn't  think  any 
the  worse  of  yourselves  for  betting  on  the  wrong 
mare,  for  I  wish  I  may  never  see  another  horserace 
if  man  a'n't  always  committing  arrar  in  some  shape 
or  other.  It  a'n't  in  his  nature  to  avoid  it !  Why, 
sar,  let  any  man —  any  intelligent  man  — any  of 
you  gentlemen  around  me  — any  man,  sar,  who 


190  THE    BLACKWATER    CHRONICLE. 

doesn't  know  the  geargraphy  of  the  country  he's  a  ri 
ding  in,  come  to  a  place  in  the  woods  where  the  roads 
fork,  and  he's  sure  to  take  the  wrong  fork  —  he's 
sure  to  do  it,  sar  !  And,  gentlemen,  if  there's  a  cock 
fight  a  transpiring  anywhere,  the  most  of  the  betters 
are  sure  to  pick  out  the  fowl  that's  whipped  —  I  never 
knew  it  otherwise  !  Pitch  up  a  handful  of  coppers 
in  the  middle  of  a  bar-room  that's  full  of  people, 
and  some  two  or  three,  by  chance  —  altogether  by 
chance — will  say,  "  Heads,"  but  all  the  rest  of  them 
will  call  out,  "  Tails !"  and  when  you  come  to  pick 
up  the  coppers,  it's  heads  they  all  are  :  I  never  knew 
it  otherwise,  unless  thar  was  some  cheating  going 
on.  And  now,  gentlemen-losers,  I'm  going  to  take 
the  liberty  of  giving  you  a  little  advice — I  always 
practise  on  it  —  and  I  don't  know  that  I  ever  lost 
any  money  except  when  I've  been  foolhardy  enough 
to  go  against  it:  and  that  is,  always  to  bet  against 

the  majority;  for  I'll  be  d d,  sar,  if  I  ever  have 

known  'em  to  be  right,  except  when  it  was  clearly 
by  chance  !  You  see  it  must  be  so  —  for,  seeing  as 
how  man  is  prone  to  arrar,  the  majority  of  'em  must 
go  wrong ;  and  the  majority  being  necessarily  wrong, 
whenever  you  want  to  bet  your  money  upon  a  race, 
or  cock-fight — at  faro,  or  "sweat,"  or  "double  O," 
or  anything  at  all  at  which  gentlemen  pleasure  them 
selves  • — find  out  the  general  opinion,  and  put  up 
your  money  against  it,  as  I  did  on  the  Virginia  mare 
on  principle,  and  you'll  double  your  pile  !  —  you  may 


HOW    WE    GOT    OUT    OF    THP]    CANAAN.  191 

depend  upon  it,  as  sure  as  my  name's  David  Wad 
dle,  at  your  service  !' ': 

"Well,  now,"  said  old  Conway,  "that  Waddell 
must  be  considerable  of  a  smart  man  ;  for  whenever 
I've  been  out  in  the  woods,  and  didn't  know  I  was 
right,  I've  mostly,  I  may  say,  gone  wrong." 

"  What's  the  opinion  here,  gentlemen,"  inquired 
Peter,  "in  regard  to  the  northeast?" 

"That  question  has  neither  a  majority  nor  mi 
nority  attached  to  it.  There  are  no  two  of  us  who 
agree  on  it." 

"  Allow  me  to  say,  gentlemen,"  observed  Peter, 
"  that  this  thing  is  not  to  be  trifled  with.  It's  a  very 
serious  business.  Now,  it  strikes  me  that  there  is 
something  in  Davy  Waddle's  opinion,  and  that  we 
ought  to  act  upon  it.  Something  might  come  out 
of  it.  Let  every  man,  I  say,  point  to  where  he 
thinks  the  north  is." 

It  was  done,  on  the  word ;  and  the  fact  was  de 
monstrated  that  the  expedition  entertained  seven 
different  opinions  on  the  subject.  Of  course,  it  was 
impossible,  in  our  case,  to  act  on  WaddelPs  theory 
of  going  right,  and  we  had  to  give  up  that  chance. 
One  of  three  things,  therefore,  was  all  that  was  left 
to  us  :  either  to  follow  Powell,  who  had  just  walked 
us  round  for  two  hours  in  a  circle  ;  or  trust  to  Trip's 
lean  to  the  Fairfax  stone ;  or  stake  our  deliverance 
upon  old  Conway,  who  seemed  by  no  means  confi 
dent  in  his  judgment.  Something,  however,  had 


192  THE    BLACKWATER    CHRONICLE. 

to  be  done ;  and,  as  is  usually  the  case  in  such  mat 
ters,  we  adopted  the  wrong  alternative  —  put  Con- 
way  in  the  lead,  and  went  to  the  right,  when  we 
should  have  gone  to  the  left,  as  it  afterward  turned 
out. 

Now,  then,  Conway  leading,  we  once  more  broke 
our  way  through  the  wild,  striking  a  course  that 
presently  brought  us  to  some  laurel.  This  we  skirted 
for  a  while,  but  at  length  found  ourselves  hemmed 
in  by  a  great  belt  of  it,  spreading  everywhere  as  far 
as  the  eye  could  see.  There  is  always  a  stream  of 
some  size  in  the  laurel ;  and  we  now  plunged  into 
the  brake  to  see  in  what  direction  the  water  flowed. 
If  it  ran  to  the  right  hand,  both  the  hunters  agreed 
that  we  would  be  on  the  waters  east  of  the  Back 
bone,  flowing  into  the  Potomac — and  would  be  on 
the  right  course ;  if  it  ran  to  the  left,  it  would  then 
be  certain  that  we  were  still  west  of  the  Bone,  on 
the  waters  of  the  Cheat  —  and  therefore  on  the 
wrong  course  altogether.  When  we  made  our  way 
to  the  stream,  it  ran  to  the  left ;  and  hope  now  put 
off  farther  than  ever.  There  was  evident  dismay 
upon  the  countenance  of  the  expedition,  and  some 
thing  of  a  disposition  manifested  to  revolt  against 
the  guides  —  wrhich  shows  that,  notwithstanding  all 
the  talk  about  man's  individual  advancement  in  this 
nineteenth  century,  he  is,  in  and  about,  the  precise 
same  animal  at  bottom  now  that  he  was  when  he 
murmured  at  the  leading  of  Moses  and  Aaron  in 


HOW  WE  GOT  OUT  OF  THE  CANAAN.      193 

the  Arabian  wilderness.  However,  be  this  as  it  may, 
there  was  evidently  nothing  to  be  gained  by  mingling 
our  murmurs,  here  in  the  wilds  of  the  Canaan,  with 
the  gentler  murmurs  of  this  unknown  little  stream. 
So  we  crossed  over  the  laurel — which  gave  us  about 
as  much  to  do  as  we  could  attend  to  for  the  time — 
and,  right  or  wrong,  kept  on  the  way  we  were  go 
ing  ;  and  after  about  an  hour's  hard  and  rather  dis 
consolate  work,  we  came  to  a  halt,  on  the  top  of  a 
ridge,  to  rest  ourselves,  and  let  Peter  come. up  with 
us,  who  by  this  time  was  farther  behind  than  was 
deemed  consistent  with  his  safety.  Presently,  that 
unhappy  gentleman  came  in,  looking  very  much  dis 
mantled — 'his  face  red  —  breathing  hard  —  and  re 
newing,  for  about  the  hundred  and  nineteenth  time 
(according  to  Triptolemus's  arithmetic),  his  proposi 
tion  to  encamp. 

"  Oh,  this  is  most  damnable !"  exclaimed  Peter. 
"What  o'clock  is  it?" 

"  You  had  better  ask,  <  What's  the  latitude  ?' " 

"I  take  it,"  said  Powell,  "it  is  somewhere  be 
tween  dinner-time  and  supper-time." 

"Is  there  anything  to  eatV'  asked  Peter.     "I'm 
suffering  for  food ;  my  strength  is  nearly  gone !" 

"  Conway,  give  him  a  raw  trout  out  of  your  bas 
ket,"  replied  the  artist. 

"  Have  yon  any  bread?"  inquired  Peter. 

"  Not  a  crumb." 

"  Nor  any  meatl" 

9 


194  THE    BLACKWATER    CHRONICLE. 

"  No  meat—  not  a  bite  !" 

"  Well,  that  settles  it  —  we  must  encamp,  and  let 
the  hunters  go  out  and  shoot  a  deer." 
.   "  ~No,  not  so,  we  must  get  into  the  settlements  at 
all  hazards,"  interposed  the  artist. 

"  If  the  sun  would  only  come  out,  I'll  insure  it 
to  reach  the  horses  yet  to-day,"  said  Powell. 

"If  I  could  have  had  any  idea  of  this,"  rejoined 
Peter — "that  I  should  be  walked  to  death  in  this 
manner — I  don't  think — " 

"  Don't  think  anything !  It's  clear  that  all  we 
have  to  do  is  to  go  on.  We  may  get  out  somewhere. 
If  we  stay  here,  we  may  starve." 

At  this  moment,  in  the  midst  of  all  these  doubts 
and  fears  of  ours,  and  the  perplexity  and  bewilder 
ment  of  the  guides,  some  one  thought  he  discerned 
something  like  a  slight  lighting  up  of  the  clouds. 
This  led  to  a  very  excited  debate,  maintained  with 
great  ability  on  all  sides,  whether  it  indicated  the 
position  of  the  sun,  or  might  not  be  just  as  well 
caused  by  the  wind  getting  up  in  that  quarter.  Af 
ter  a  good  deal  said,  however,  that  we  will  not  stop 
to  record  here — all  of  which  was  strongly  character 
ized  by  the  different  mental  and  moral  peculiarities 
of  the  various  parties  to  the  discussion  —  it  was  at 
length  put  to  the  vote  and  passed,  that  no  man  should 
henceforth  say  a  word  upon  the  question  as  to  where 
the  four  points  of  the  compass  were,  but  that  the 
matter  should  be  left  to  the  two  hunters,  upon  whose 


HOW    WE    GOT    OUT    OF    THE    CANAAN.  195 

deliberations,  undisturbed  by  any  suggestions  of 
ours,  the  fate  of  the  expedition  should  entirely  de 
pend.  Powell  and  Conway,  therefore,  undisturbed 
by  any  confusing  opinions  of  ours,  presently  came 
to  a  determination  as  to  their  course,  and  off  we 
struck  again  through  the  wilderness. 

We  will  not  encumber  our  narrative  with  a  reci 
tal  of  all  that  occurred  on  the  march,  but  merely 
state,  that  the  route  we  had  fallen  on  in  our  bad 
luck,  led  us  through  about  as  rugged,  as  savage, 
and  as  difficult  a  wilderness,  as  a  man  could  well 
get  into ;  that  we  climbed  hills  so  steep  that  we 
had  to  pull  ourselves  up  by  clinging  to  anything 
we  could  lay  hold  of,  and  get  down  them  as  best 
we  could  —  that  we  were  now  all  the  time  either 
crossing  mountain-tops,  or  clambering  their  sides, 
or  plunging  into  the  laurel  that  filled  the  ravines 
between ;  that  sometimes  the  dead  trees  would 
cover  the  ground  everywhere  before  us — lying  six 
feet  high  when  we  would  come  to  scale  them,  and 
often  so  decomposed  that  we  would  sink  into  them 
up  to  the  waist.  It  was  through  such  a  wild  that 
we  now  forced  our  way ;  until,  at  length,  some 
where  about  five  o'clock  in  the  evening,  jaded  and 
much  exhausted  for  want  of  food,  that  part  of  the 
expedition  that  was  in  the  advance  called  a  halt  in 
front  of  some  very  extensive  laurel  just  ahead,  the 
look  of  which  made  it  necessary,  in  the  opinion  of 
the  guides,  to  hold  a  council  of  war. 


196  THE    BLACKWATKK    CHRONICLE. 

"This  time  we  straggled  in  at  considerable  inter 
vals —  an  indication  of  our  weary  plight;  and  each 
one,  as  he  came  in,  instead  of  sitting  down  as  usual, 
unstrapped  his  wallet,  and  stretched  himself  out  at 
full  length  on  the  moss,  wet  as  it  was  from  the  rain 
of  the  day.  Up  to  this  time  no  one  had  entertained 
the  idea,  seriously,  that  we  would  not  be  able  to 
get  out  of  the  Canaan  some  time  or  other  during 
the  day.  But  that  hope  was  now  failing  us  ;  and 
although  we  had  nothing  to  eat,  it  was  seriously 
deliberated  whether  we  had  not  better  build  a  fire 
and  prepare  to  pass  the  night  where  we  were.  But 
at  this  time,  the  clouds  that  had  obscured  the  sky  all 
day,  broke  away,  and  the  wind  rising,  the  sun 
presently  shone  out ;  whereupon  it  was  determined 
to  make  one  more  effort  to  get  out,  and  if  that 
failed,  then  to  encamp,  roast  the  few  trout  we  had 
for  a  supper,  and  take  the  chances  of  killing  a  deer 
in  the  morning  for  our  breakfast. 

This  determination  met  with  no  favor  from  Peter, 
who  was  dead  opposed  to  any  further  walking  for 
the  day.  He  urged  the  advantage  of  encamping  in 
a  great  many  points  of  view  —  but  all  to  no  avail ; 
and,  finally,  as  a  last  resort,  made  an  appeal  to 
feeling. 

"Well,  then,  gentlemen,  go  on.  One  thing  is 
certain,  that  I  can  go  no  further.  You  will  have 
to  leave  me  behind,  if  you  can  reconcile  it  to  your 


consciences." 


HOW  WE  GOT  OUT  OF  THE  CANAAN.      197 

"  Man  in  a  state  of  nature  has  very  little  of  that 
commodity,"  said  the  Prior. 

"  As  for  myself,"  said  the  Signor,  "  I  am  some 
what  at  best,  like  the  Spanish  sharper,  who  threw 
his  aside  in  his  youth,  because  he  was  told  it  had  a 
sting" 

"You  may  make  yourselves  as  merry  as  you 
please  with  my  sufferings,"  replied  Peter,  with  an 
air  of  resignation,  "  but  it's  utterly  impossible  for 
me  to  go  any  further.  And  what  is  it  all  for?  "We 
are  wandering  about  here,  nobody  knows  where. 
Gentlemen,  it's  the  height  of  nonsense.  Let's  en 
camp  and  eat  something." 

"  Hadn't  we,  Peter,  much  better  keep  on  a  little 
longer — we  might,  by  chance,  get  to  the  horses." 

"  If  we  stay  here  we  will  never  get  out,"  said  the 
Signor.  "  Powell,  move  on." 

"  Stop  awhile,"  said  Peter,  "  let  me  ask  a  question 
of  Powell.  Powell,  have  you  any  distinct  idea  at 
all  of  where  we  are  ?" 

"  Well,  to  tell  you  the  truth,  Mr.  Botecote,  I  have 
not.  All  the  water  we  have  come  upon  yet,  has 
been  running  the  wrong  way  to  me.  If  I  could  see 
some  water  running  to  the  right  of  our  course,  I 
should  feel  satisfied." 

"  You  really  give  it  up  then,  Powell  ?" 

"  No,  I  don't  say  I  give  it  up  —  I  only  say  I  don't 
know  where  we  are." 

"  What  do  you  say,  Conway  ?" 


198  THE    BLACKWATER    CHRONICLE. 

"I'd  give  something  to  be  back  on  the  Black- 
water  where  we  started  from." 

"There  it  is  —  I  knew  it  would  be  so  from  the 
beginning.  We  don't  know  where  we  are.  These 
hunters  haven't  the  slightest  idea  themselves.  It's 
all  abominable!  It  is  perfectly  intolerable!  It's 
insufferable !  It's" — 

"It's  bad  enough,  that's  true,"  said  one. 

"  And  likely  to  be  worse,"  said  another. 

"  My  heels  are  rubbed  raw,"  said  Galen,  "  and 
will  be,  I  expect,  rawer  before  we  get  out." 

"Towells  was  right  about  the  Canaan,"  said 
Trip. 

"  Towers,"  said  the  Signor ;  "  Towers,  Trip,  don't 
call  him  Towells.  You  only  add  to  Peter's  aggra 
vations." 

"  He's  beyond  such  niceties  now,"  said  the  Mas 
ter.  "  It  is  only  when  the  body's  at  ease  that  the 
mind  is  delicate." 

"  May  Towers  roast  for  this  !"  said  Peter.  "  It's 
as  much  owing  to  him,  as  anybody  else,  that  I  came 
out  into  this  desert.  He  took  very  good  care,  how 
ever,  not  to  come  himself!" 

The  expedition,  by  this  time,  was  well  under  way 
again,  skirting  the  edge  of  the  laurel  that  lay  wide 
to  the  left  of  us,  while  the  mountain,  on  whose 
slopes  we  walked,  rose  high  and  bold  above  us,  on 
the  right.  Pursuing  a  course  along  the  rugged  and 
broken  side  of  the  mountain,  it  was  not  long  before 


HOW  WE  GOT  OUT  OF  THE  CANAAN.      199 

we  found  ourselves  entangled  in  the  midst  of  some 
fallen  trees  that  blocked  up  the  way.  This  broke 
up  the  single  file  line  of  our  march ;  and  each  man 
hunted  out  for  himself  the  best  way  to  get  through, 
in  doing  which,  we  became  a  good  deal  scattered 
about  the  forest.  In  this  dispersion  of  our  forces, 
it  so  fell  out,  that  Galen,  stopping  astraddle  of  the 
last  monstrous  hemlock  he  had  to  climb  over  —  his 
sore  heel  impelling  him  thereto  —  saw  something 
that  he  took  for  an  old  blaze,  on  a  tree  before  him. 

This  he  announced  in  a  loud  voice ;  and  there 
was  a  general  gathering  in  of  the  expedition  around 
him.  It  was  an  undoubted  blaze.  But  whether  it 
led  to  the  Potomac  settlements,  or  those  in  the 
opposite  direction  on  the  Cheat,  was  all  matter  of 
doubt.  At  all  events,  it  would  lead  us  out  some 
where,  if  it  could  be  traced.  With  the  purpose  of 
forming  some  opinion  in  regard  to  it,  Powell  fol 
lowed  it  for  some  distance  up  the  mountain  —  then 
returned,  and  traced  it  down  the  mountain,  until  he 
came  to  the  laurel.  Here  he  called  us  to  him ; 
when  he  and  Conway  held  a  very  earnest  and  ex 
cited  consultation — 'the  result  of  which  was  a  dec 
laration,  that  if  the  blazing  continued  on  through 
the  laurel,  it  would,  in  all  likelihood  lead  us  to  the 
Potomac. 

Stimulated  by  the  probability  of  being  near  the 
Potomac,  we  now  broke  into  the  laurel,  and  forced 
our  way  through  its  tangled  branches  with  an  im- 


THE    BLACKWATER    CHRONICLE. 

petuosity  that  made  nothing  of  its  difficulties — • 
eagerly  hunting  out  the  cuts  on  the  trees  —  now 
losing  them — now  finding  them  again;  until,  at 
length,  we  came  upon  something  like  an  old  cattle 
path.  Down  this  we  made  our  way,  without  any  heed 
to  the  blaze — half  in  a  run  —  Triptolemus  thrown 
out  into  the  bushes  occasionally  —  and  Peter  full  up 
with  the  movement,  even  when  it  was  at  its  fastest. 
Old  Con  way  was  ahead,  springing  along  with  the 
light  and  nimble  movement  of  a  kitten,  notwith 
standing  the  rifle  on  his  shoulder,  and  the  basket 
of  fish,  the  coffee-pot,  and  tin-cups  dangling  to  his 
girdle ;  and  presently,  he  reached  the  base  of  the 
mountain  —  where  he  soon  came  to  the  banks  of  a 
stream,  and  cried  out  that  it  was  the  Potomac. 
Powell  came  up  and  made  proclamation  to  the  same 
effect ;  and  The  Potomac  was  shouted  all  along  our 
line,  as  we  descended  the  steeps  of  what  we  now  knew 
was  the  Backbone :  the  echoes  crying  out  every 
where  The  Potomac  —  the  woods  and  the  floods 
still  reverberate  with  the  voices,  even  as  we  stood 
silent  on  the  banks  of  the  laurel-crowned  river. 

"  I  knew  it,  gentlemen,  I  knew  it  would  be  thus. 
We  were  bound  to  get  out,"  said  Peter,  very  ex 
travagant  in  his  happiness  —  his  genuine  character 
istics  beginning  to  reveal  themselves  for  the  first 
time  since  we  abandoned  our  horses  and  took  to  it 
afoot.  "Yes,  gentlemen,"  he  continued,  oratori- 
cally,  "we  are  out  at  last — and  I  will  say  it,  owing 


HOW  WE  GOT  OUT  OF  THE  CANAAN.      201 

to  a  degree  of  indomitable  energy,  perseverance, 
skill,  fortitude,  and  endurance,  and  so  forth,  et 
cetera,  that  has  never  been  matched.  It  is  not  to 
be  denied,  that  history  contains  many  instances  of 
desperate  achievement,  bearing  some  resemblance 
to  this  deliverance  of  ours  —  there  is  the  well- 
known  case  of  Moses  in  the  bullrushes — but  what 
are  bullrushes,  I  would  like  to  know,  to  this  all-fired 
laurel  ?  Grass  !  nothing  but  grass  !  Napoleon  got 
out  from  the  forests  of  Eussia  —  but  how?  With 
all  his  grand  army  gone !  We  stand  here,  gentle 
men,  with  our  ranks  yet  unthinned  by  the  loss  of  a 
single  follower.  It  is  true,  gentlemen,  I  was  a  little 
disconsolate  at  one  time ;  but  then  I  recalled  to 
mind  the  case  of  Marius  sitting  among  the  ruins  of 
Cartilage,  in  the  very  acme  of  his  adversity ;  and 
remembering  that  he  was  a  second  time  proconsul, 
my  soul  rose  up  within  me,  and  I  would  have  suffer 
ed  the  last  extremity  of  martyrdom  in  the  shape  of 
locomotion,  before  I  would  have  given  up.  The 
case,  also,  of  Moses  and  the  children  of  Israel  oc 
curred  to  me ;  and  I  determined  it  should  not  be 
said  by  posterity  that  the  children  could  get  into 
their  Canaan,  while  I  wasn't  able  to  get  out  of  ours. 
I  will  even,  gentlemen,  go  so  far  as  to  say,  that  at 
that  crisis,  when  I  thought  we  had  found  out  the  per 
petual  motion,  from  the  rounds  we  were  describing 
in  the  forest  —  I  will  candidly  admit  it,  out  of  my 
regard  for  the  truth  of  history  —  that  just  then,  1 


202  THE    BLACKWATEK    CHRONICLE. 

verily  believe  I  would  have  submitted  to  the  opera 
tion  of  being  eaten  by  a  bear,  without  feeling  any 
indignation  at  the  audacious  effrontery  of  such  a 
procedure.  But  Allah  Akbar! — God  is  Great! — 
and  the  bounties  of  Providence  are  new  every  day  1 

—  and  here  I  am — you  may  say  in  spite  of  my  teeth 

—  and,  indeed,  you  may  say  of  all  the  other  parts  of 
my  body.     When  I  look  back  upon  my  tracks,  and 
think  of  the  laurel,  and  the  interminable  mountains 

—  and  such  mountains,  and  the  piles  of  rotten  hem 
locks  and  firs  that  I  have  been  stuck  in — and  that  I 
have  been  at  it  now  from  sunrise,  without  any  inter 
mission,  up  to  this  time,  six  o'clock  in  the  evening — 
thirteen  mortal  hours  —  and  all  without  anything 
to  eat,  may  the  devil  take  my  lights !    as  Towers 
says,  if  I  am  not  utterly  lost  in  astonishment  at 
those  powers,  hitherto  unrevealed  to  me,  that  have 
stood  me  out.     It's  glory  enough  for  any  one  man's 
lifetime :  and  I  tell  you  all  now,  if  ever  you  catch 
me  in  the  Canaan  again,  unless  it  is  a  horseback, 
and  with  plenty  of  provisions,  my  name's  not  Peter 
Botecote.     By  the  way,  men,  how  far  off  are  the 
horses  from  here?     That's  a  matter  to  be  seen  to 
at  once." 

"  Well,  I  reckon,  the  glade  where  we  left  them, 
must  be  some  six  miles  above  us,"  said  old  Con  way. 

"  At  least  that,"  said  Powell. 

Peter  fell  again  at  this  information.  But  upon 
Conway's  saying  that  it  was  not  more  than  some 


HOW  WE  GOT  OUT  OF  THE  CANAAN.      203 

three  miles  to  his  house  through  the  woods,  and  by 
a  path  all  the  way,  it  was  determined  to  let  the 
horses  stay  where  they  were,  and  go  on  at  once 
afoot. 

So  we  moved  on,  crossed  the  Potomac,  and  struck 
into  a  good  path  winding  through  the  forest.  We 
went  along  at  a  rapid  walk ;  and  even  at  this  fast 
gait  were  urged  to  go  faster  by  Peter,  now  dashing 
along  with  a  free  swing  up  among  the  foremost  of 
the  party.  Indeed,  you  would  suppose  from  the 
energy  of  his  movements,  that  he  was  walking  for 
a  wager  —  so  reanimated  was  he  at  having  accom 
plished  the  exodus  of  the  Canaan. 

At  this  rate  we  walked  about  an  hour — and  had 
yet  some  two  or  three  miles  to  go.  It  was  evident 
that  Conway  was  tolling  us  along.  But  on  we 
went,  getting  down  from  a  pace  that  was  four  miles 
an  hour,  to  one  that  was  only  two  ;  and  at  length 
crossing  Laurel  run  (one  of  the  tributaries  of  the 
Potomac)  we  ascended  the  long  hill  beyond,  at 
scarcely  the  rate  of  a  mile  an  hour. 

The  lighter  part  of  the  expedition  rose  this  hill  at 
evident  advantage,  and  sat  down  on  a  log  to  rest. 
But  weight  was  now  beginning  to  tell  effectually ; 
and  the  heavy  forces  advanced  at  a  very  slow  and 
labored  pace,  each  one  wheeling  in  upon  the  log  as 
he  came  up,  except  Butcut,  who  passed  on  without 
stopping,  or  casting  even  so  much  as  a  look  to 
where  we  sat. 


204  THE    BLACKWATER    CHRONICLE. 

"Doix't  you  mean  to  stop  and  blow,  But?" 
"  Blow  the  devil !  I'm  blowing  all  I  can  as  it  is  !" 
"You  had  better  stop  —  we  have  two  miles  yet 
to  go." 

And  upon  this  announcement  Peter  wheeled  to, 
and  came  down  heavily  upon  a  stump  near  him, 
without  saying  a  word. 

It  was  evident  now  that  the  expedition  was  very 
nearly  on  its  last  legs.  Nothing  but  that  fortitude 
of  endurance,  indomitable  energy,  &c.,  which  Mr. 
Botecote  had  alluded  to  down  on  the  banks  of  the 
Potomac,  had  kept  it  moving  up  to  this  time.  One 
was  a  little  faint — another  was  dizzy  about  the 
brain  —  a  third  had  a  film  over  his  eyes — Trip  said 
that  there  was  a  humming,  and  buzzing,  and  singing 
going  on  in  his  ears,  very  much  like  the  running 
down  of  his  watch  when  the  main-spring  breaks : 
every  one  had  something  out  of  gear — even  Powell 
and  Conway  were  overtasked  ;  and  it  is  certain  that 
nothing  but  "  the  unconquerable  free-will"  of  some 
of  us,  and  "  the  undying  hope"  of  all,  to  get  into 
Conway's,  kept  us  from  remaining  out  all  night 
starved  in  the  woods,  unless,  maybe,  it  was  a  small 
flask  of  brandy,  containing  about  a  gill,  which  the 
Prior,  with  a  wise  forethought,  had  brought  along 
with  him  as  physic  for  his  body  in  case  he  should 
be  bit  by  a  rattlesnake. 

The  flask  was  now  produced,  and  each  man  swal 
lowed  a  mouthful  of  it  raw.  Thus  temporarily 


HOW   WE    GOT   OUT   OF   THE    CANAAN.  205 

propped  up,  we  once  more  set  forward  on  the 
march  ;  and  straggling  wearily  along  the  now  broad 
and  beaten  path,  with  long  intervals  between  —  al 
most  utterly  exhausted,  we  at  length,  late  in  the 
twilight,  denied  from  the  woods  into  the  open  fields 
of  the  Con  way  possession  (held  by  squatter  tenure), 
about  as  dilapidated  a  set  of  adventurers  as  ever 
wandered  a  forest — ragged,  tattered,  and  torn,  and 
all  forlorn  —  starved,  haggard,  barely  able  to  drag 
ourselves  up  the  gentle  slope  that  led  to  the  cabin- 
door —  the  very  contrast  of  the  bright,  buoyant, 
elate,  trimly-arrayed,  and  may  we  not  say  it,  rather 
stylish-looking  band,  that  only  four  days  ago  had 
witched  the  world  of  these  regions  with  our  noble 
footman  ship. 

I  —  the  writer  of  this  chronicle  —  with  every  fac 
ulty  of  my  nature,  as  I  supposed,  obliterated  by  fa 
tigue  and  starvation  —  with  my  head  bent  down  to 
my  breast  —  entered  the  threshold  of  the  old  forest 
er's  door,  and,  putting  out  my  hand,  took  hold  of 
what  I  supposed  was  the  hand  (extended  to  me  in 
welcome)  of  the  mistress  of  the  household ;  but  it 
was  not  hers — it  was  the  soft  hand,  freshly  washed, 
of  the  old  man's  lithe  daughter  of  seventeen  sum 
mers  ;  and  I  take  it  upon  me  to  say  that,  broken 
down  as  I  was,  the  touch  thrilled  every  fibre  of  my 
heart  —  and  I  raised  my  head  and  looked  into  the 
face  of  the  seventeen  summers  before  me — beheld 
the  red  of  her  cheek  and  the  beam  of  her  young 


206 


THE    BLA,CKWATER    CHRONICLE. 


eye  —  and  for  the  moment  I  thought  she  might  be 
Donna  Maria  Gloriana  of  Spain,  or  the  queen  of 
Sheba  in  all  her  glory! — such  and  so  great  is  the 
power  of  "  woman  divine"  over  a  man  who  has  been 
associating  for  some  time  with  nothing  but  men  and 
bears  in  a  wilderness.  Holding  Gloriana  Conway's 
hand  as  daintily  as  if  it  had  been  the  queen  of 
Spain's,  my  soul  revived  within  me.  But  when  I 
let  it  go,  I  relapsed  straightway  into  my  former 
nothingness.  It  was  but  like  the  swallow  of  brandy, 
a  temporary  stimulant,  and  nothing  more ;  so  I 


acted  upon  a  sounder  philosophy,  and  dipped  in 
with  the  rest  into  the  insides  of  a  monstrous  pump 
kin-pie,  that  was  already  more  than  half-devoured. 


HOW  WE  GOT  OUT  OF  THE  CANAAN.      207 

"I  thank  Heaven,"  said  Peter,  scarcely  intelligi 
ble,  owing  to  an  over-large  mouthful,  "for  this  de 
liverance  !"  And  as  his  heart  revived  within  him, 
he  grew  classical,  and  repeated  with  much  unction 
the  happy  words  which  Gil  Bias  wrote  over  his  door 
at  Lirias : — 

"  Inveni  portum.     Spes  et  fortuna  valete, 
Sat  me  lusistis,  nunc  ludite  alios." 

"  Gentlemen,"  said  the  artist,  speaking  too  out  of 

the  fullness  of  his  mouth  as  well  as  of  his  heart 

"  the  knight  of  the  gloomy  countenance  brightens. 
He  has  scarcely  yet  set  his  foot  within  the  precincts 
of  civilization,' and  the  immortal  creation  of  Le  Sage 
rises  unbidden  to  his  thoughts !" 

"  It  is  clear  But  was  never  intended  for  savage 
life,"  observed  one. 

"He  hasn't  made  a  joke  since  we've  been  out," 
said  Trip.  "The  first  time  he  gave  any  symptoms 
of  being  himself  again,  was  when  he  made  that 
speech— back  on  the  banks  of  the  Potomac— about 
Marius  and  Moses." 

"He's  lucky  he  wasn't  born  an  Indian,"  rejoined 
the  artist. 

And  to  these,  and  many  other  such  remarks,  Mr. 
Peter  Botecote  made  once  in  a  while  a  reply  ;  but 
what  he  said  must  for  ever  remain  lost  to  the  world 
-for  his  mouth  was  so  full,  that  nobody  could  pos 
sibly  make  it  out. 

After  a  satisfactory  supper,  which  in  due  course 


208  THE    BLACKWATEK    CHRONICLE. 

of  time  was  prepared  for  us  by  the  family  of  the 
hospitable  old  hunter — consisting  of  fried  bacon 
and  eggs,  broiled  venison,  some  of  the  trout  Con  way 
had  brought  home,  a  large  coffee-pot  of  strong  coffee, 
bread,  milk,  butter,  honey,  maple-sirup,  and  various 
comfits  and  preserves  —  which  we  mention  here  to 
show  how  well  stocked  is  the  home  of  a  deer-hunter 
in  the  Alleganies  —  we  stretched  ourselves  out  side 
by  side,  on  some  pallets  spread  down  on  the  floor 
before  the  fire,  and  in  a  few  moments  were  all  dead 
asleep. 

And  so  ended  the  day  we  got  out  of  the  Canaan. 


THE   RETURN    TO   WINSTON.  209 


CHAPTER   XIY. 

THE   RETURN    TO    WINSTON "BOOTLESS    HOME   AND 

WEATHER-BEATEN    BACK." 

WE  remained  at  Conway's  next  day  until  about 
one  or  two  o'clock.  Our  horses  had  broken  out  of 
the  dale  on  the  Potomac,  and  had  returned  to  Tow- 
ers's  the  day  after  we  abandoned  them.  They  had 
been  put  back,  and  again  had  left  —  which  escapes, 
in  justice  to  the  rhododendron  fencing,  we  must  re 
cord  it,  were  effected  through  the  barricade  at  the 
point  of  entrance  into  the  dale ;  in  other  words, 
they  had  escaped  by  the  way  they  got  in  :  we  had 
not  secured  the  bars  effectually.  They  had  been 
seen  passing  by  Conway's  only  a  few  hours  before 
we  arrived.  Supposing  Towers  would  send  them 
back  this  morning,  we  waited,  keeping  a  lookout 
from  the  house. 

In  the  meantime,  Conway's  two  boys  were  de 
spatched  to  the  dale,  six  miles  off,  for  our  saddles 
and  bridles,  &c. ;  and  with  instructions  to  go  up  the 
mountain  beyond,  to  the  Elk-lick,  and  get  Mr.  Bote- 
cote's  Yankee  blanket  — which  was  left  there  hung 
upon  a  tree,  as  the  reader  will  remember,  when 
Peter  made  his  first  proposition  to  turn  back. 
It  was  a  beautiful  morning  of  the  early  summer, 


210  THE    BLACKWATER    CHRONICLE. 

and  we  lay  idly  about  on  the  grass,  basking  in  the- 
sunshine,  and  commenting  upon  many  things  pleas 
antly  enough.  As  the  conversation  referred  chiefly 
to  our  expedition  and  its  incidents,  we  will  relate 
some  of  it  before  we  leave. 

Mr.  Botecote  was  restored  to  all  his  natural  vi 
vacity  and  pleasantry.  His  eye  twinkled,  and  his 
countenance  was  bright.  He  was  again  in  his 
proper  element  of  civilization. 

"  Well,  gentlemen,"  he  observed,  "  I've  been 
thinking  about  it,  and  it  is  my  opinion  that  there 
is  no  life  like  this  of  the  wilderness,  after  all.  It's 
astonishing,  Galen,  what  an  amount  of  hardship  a 
man  can  endure !  No  man  can  tell  what  he  is  un 
til  he  is  tried.  Powell,  do  you  think  that  tract  of 
land  can  be  bought?" 

"  No  doubt  of  it,  Mr.  Botecote." 

"  How  many  acres  are  there  ?" 

"  Five  thousand." 

"  And  for  how  much  ?" 

"  Sixty  cents  an  acre." 

"That's  three  thousand  dollars.     I'll  buy  it," 

"  It's  the  finest  tract  in  all  the  country ;  there's 
not  fifty  acres  of  bad  land  in  the  whole  of  it,  and  it's 
all  finely  watered,"  answered  Powell,  encouraging 
the  purchase. 

"  I'll  join  you  in  the  purchase,  Peter,"  said  Adol- 
phus.  "  As  soon  as  we  get  back  to  Winston,  we'll 
write,  right  away,  and  secure  it." 


THE    KETUEN    TO    WINSTON.  211 

"  I'm  afraid  we've  lost  Peter  and  Adolphus,"  ob 
served  the  artist. 

"Oh,  that's  certain  —  indeed,  I  doubt  whether 
they  will  go  back  with  us  at  all,"  replied  the  Master. 

"  1  can't  imagine  a  more  happy  life,"  said  Peter, 
"  than  a  man  could  live  out  here  —  here  in  the  midst 
of  these  grand  mountains,  these  noble  trees,  these 
perfect  waters ;  the  wilderness  close  at  hand  for  his 
recreation,  with  its  innumerable  deer  and  trout; 
the  railroad  only  some  ten  or  twenty  miles  off,  and 
which  you  can  reach  by  a  road  through  beautiful 
glades  all  the  way  —  that  is,  after  you  have  got 
over  the  Backbone.  Adolphus,  we  must  build 
ourselves  a  lodge  upon  our  estate.  I  shall  con 
struct  something  after  the  old  Saxon  architecture, 
that  shall  look  baronial — have  great,  huge  fire 
places,  to  burn  whole  loads  of  wood  in  at  a  time ; 
—  and  a  big  hall,  hung  round  with  trophies  of  the 
chase " 

And  here  G-alen  broke  in  :  "  Yes — and  when  our 
friends  come  up,  we  will  summon  Powell  and  Con- 
way,  and  all  the  other  foresters,  and  make  inroads 
into  the  wilderness — encamp  out  there,  and  fish, 
and  shoot  the  deer." 

"Deer! — Nothing  so  small  as  that  —  bears  and 
panthers  —  elk  at  the  least,"  said  the  artist. 

"  I  would  have  the  Canaan  as  a  park,"  said  the 
Master,  "  and  cut,  But,  drives  through  the  gorges 
and  defiles  of  the  mountains;  bridge  the  laurel,  and 


212  THE   BLACKWATEK   CHRONICLE. 

have  a  tower  at  the  falls  of  the  Blackwater,  with  a 
good  cook  in  it— such  a  one  as  Peter  would  recom 
mend —  and  lounges  and  cushions  of  the  softest — 
with  a  harp  or  so,  and  two  or  three  grand  pianos, 
to  play  swelling  themes  in  accord  with  the  sublime 
music  of  the  torrent  roaring  down  the  Alleganies !" 

"  I  am  not  building  castles,  gentlemen,"  observed 
Peter  with  earnestness ;  "  far  from  it,  gentlemen ! 
Never  was  more  in  earnest  in  my  life.  Why,  that 
five  thousand  acres,  and  the  others  that  I  would  buy- 
in  the  course  of  time,  would  be  an  immense  inher 
itance  to  my  children !  Why,  sir,  in  twenty  years, 
the  whole  of  it  would  be  worth  fifty  dollars  an  acre 
at  the  least.  The  railroad,  when  finished,  will  open 
out  the  country  to  market  at  once :  it  will  make 
tidewater  at  your  door !  As  fine  a  country  as  our 
Valley  is,  I  would  infinitely  rather  live  here!" 

Mr.  Peter  Botecote,  it  will  be  perceived,  was  a 
very  altered  man  in  his  feelings  this  morning.  He 
was  no  longer  the  knight  of  the  gloomy  counte 
nance.  But  rowdy  and  ragamuffin  as  he  seemed 
externally  to  the  eye,  the  soul  of  Philip  Sydney  was 
in  him,  or  any  highly  imaginative,  poetic,  and  sub 
limated  gentleman  ;  and  Hope  spread  -  before  him 
all  her  illusions  — 

"  Smiled,  enchanted,  and  waved  her  golden  hair" — 

and  all-happy  visions  of  the  wilderness  didn't  spare 
his  aching  sight.  But,  we  are  not  deriding  Peter. 


TFIE    RETURN    TO    WINSTON.  213 

Much  of  that  gentleman's  enthusiasm  has  substantial 
foundation.  The  railroad  must  put  this  noble  coun 
try  alongside  of  the  sea;  and  the  forest  must  be 
cleared  away  for  the  plough,  and  the  water-power 
e very  wh ere  must  be  used,  and  the  coal  dug  out  of 
the  earth,  and  the  ores,  the  gypsum,  the  salt,  and 
the  lumber,  turned  into  wealth;  and  therefore  the 
land  (such  land  !  that  can  be  bought  now  from  sixty 
cents  to  a  dollar  an  acre !)  must  be  worth  fifty  dol 
lars —  and  that  at  no  very  distant  day.  But  all  this 
is  to  be  done  by  the  hardy  enterprise  of  men  in 
whose  souls  poetry  and  imagination  are  not  pre 
dominant — by  men  with  necessity  at  their  elbow, 
who  are  resolute  upon  acquisition,  and  who  have 
been  trained  to  the  rougher  realities  of  life ;  not  by 
a  set  of  daintily-nurtured  gentlemen,  to  whom  life 
has  been  but  little  else  than  an  agreeable  pastime, 
whose  disquiet  has  been  only  the  loss  of  some  pleas 
urable  gratification,  whose  greatest  suffering  has  con 
sisted  in  being  lost  for  a  day  in. the  wilds  of  the  Ca 
naan —  a  wilderness  —  but  a  wilderness  of  plenty  of 
deer  and  trout. 

"  Peter  is  delightful  to  me  this  morning,  gentle 
men  ;  I  never  saw  a  happier  countenance,"  observed 
the  Master. 

"  Perfectly  delicious,"  responded  the  artist ;  "  he's 
blossoming  like  the  rose  in  the  wilderness  :— 

"  '0  my  love  is  like  the  red,  red  rose, 
That's  newly  blown  in  June !' " 


214:  THE    BLACKWATER    CHRONICLE. 

"  He  is  happy,  sure  enough,"  said  Trip.  "And 
he  looks  natural  to  me  to-day  out  of  his  eyes.  But 
yesterday,  sitting  down  on  that  soft,  mushy  log,  I 
don't  think  his  nearest  neighbor  would  have  recog 
nised  him." 

"There  was  a  grand  gloom  on  him  just  about 
that  time :  he  looked  like  the  pictures  of  Napoleon 
on  the  rock  at  St.  Helena." 

"  I  never  had  any  idea  of  Philips's  grand,  gloomy, 
and  peculiar — a  sceptred  hermit,  &c.,  before.  I 
see  now,  however,  distinctly  the  sort  of  picture  of 
a  man  the  Irish  orator  must  have  had  in  his  mind." 

"  Signor,  you  ought  to  have  sketched  him." 

"  I  have  him  in  my  mind's  eye,  gentlemen :  Ma- 
rius,  sitting  among  the  ruins  of  Carthage,  won't  be 
able  to  hold  a  candle  to  him,  after  I  shall  have 
limned  him !" 

"  Trip,  you  needn't  say  anything,"  retorted  Peter ; 
"  for  when  the  hunters  admitted  we  were  lost,  your 
eyes  grew  very  big." 

"  Well,  it  did  look  a  little  scary  to  me  about  that 
time,"  answered  Trip,  "  particularly  when  I  saw  the 
Signor  there  hunting  about  for  the  snails,  and  put 
ting  them  in  his  pockets.  You  see,  I  thought  of 
Towell's  story  about  the  lost  man  out  there.  And, 
now  I  think  of  it,  I  shall  retract  to  Connells  my  dis 
belief  as  soon  as  I  get  a  sight  of  him." 

"  Call  him  Towers,  if  you  please,  my  dear  fellow, 
Trip  ;  just  put  your  mind  upon  it — Towers — Tow- 
It  would  be  some  amends  to  him." 


THE  RETURN  TO  WINSTON.  215 

And  here  Peter  frankly  acknowledged  the  fact 
that  he  was  very  much  broken  down  and  a  good 
deal  disconsolate  at  times ;  but  that,  notwithstand 
ing,  the  pleasure  of  the  expedition  was  very  great 
to  him. 

"And,  gentlemen,"  he  continued,  with  much  en 
thusiasm,  "  I'll  go  in  with  you  again,  at  any  time 
you  may  choose  to  name,  provided  only  you  let  me 
have  about  a  month's  notice,  so  that  I  may  put  my 
self  in  training  beforehand.  Indeed,  I  think,  the 
next  time,  I'll  take  it  afoot  from  home.  They  have 
got  to  making  these  wagons  now  to  run  so  easy,  that 
a  man  who  uses  them  must  lose  eventually  all  his 
walking  powers  — that  fine  elasticity  of  muscle  — 
that  wiry  agility  — that  free,  unimpeded  respiration 
—  that  everything  that  is  native  and  to  the  manner 
born,  I  may  say,  to  man,  as  my  experience  of  the 
wilderness  satisfies  me  —  that — in  fine,  gentlemen, 
I  shall  foot  it,  I  think,  for  the  rest  of  my  days !" 

"  Right,  Peter — down  with  the  wagon  !"  said  the 
artist. 

"And  up  with  the  saddle-horse  again!"  replied 
the  Master.  "  I  will  join  with  you  in  any  reforma 
tion  of  the  times  that  has  for  its  object  the  ascen 
dency  of  the  saddle.  Bring  the  republic  back  to 
that,  and  I  shall  have  hopes  of  it.  This  foot- work 
is  sufficiently  cared  for  over  the  land  ;  any  fellow 
that  has  two  legs  can  get  at  it.  But  how  many  of 
our  people  are  there  of  this  generation  who  can  ride 


216  THE    BLACKWATER    CHRONICLE. 

a  real  horse !  Cavalry  are  as  essential  to  our  na 
tional  greatness  as  infantry.  While  many  go  afoot, 
it  is  essential  that  some  at  least  should  go  a-horse- 
back.  Where  would  the  nation  be  to-day,  if  it  had 
not  been  for  that  race  of  men  who  were  trained  in 
the  saddle  —  those  men  of  '  earth's  first  blood'  —  the 
gentlemen  who  rode  the  blooded  horses  that  were 
descended  from  the  loins  of  the  Godolphin  Arabian  ? 
Don't  tell  me,  Peter,  that  these  men,  heroic  as  they 
would  have  been  anyhow,  had  not  some  elevation 
given  to  their  heroism  by  the  nobilities  of  nature 
begotten  of  the  saddle.  Imagine  Washington  with 
out  his  charger !  Think  of  him,  if  you  can,  afoot ! 
Or  can  the  idea  of  him  even  enter  into  your  brain, 
as  a  man  driving  a  fast  trotter,  at  about  two  twenty, 
over  a  plank-road  !  Could  Alexander  of  Macedon 
ever  have  been  Alexander  the  Great,  had  he  not 
been  the  Alexander  who  could  ride  Bucephalus? 
Shakspeare  understood  all  about  it  when  he  made 
Richard  rage  about  Bosworth-field  for  a  horse!"  — 

"  '  A  horse !  a  horse !  my  kingdom  for  a  horse  P  " — 

here  ranted  Peter,  breaking  in  upon  the  Master ; 
and,  throwing  himself  into  a  very  theatrical  position, 
he  went  on*,  and  enacted  the  whole  of  the  battle-scene 
—  out-raging  Kean  or  Booth  even  —  to  the  great 
wonderment  of  Powell  and  Conway,  and  the  whole 
of  Conway's  family,  who  came  out  bewildered  to 
the  performance.  At  length,  having  got  through 


THE  RETURN  TO  WINSTON.  217 

the  play,  Peter  went  on  to  learn  from  his  two  for 
esters  the  expense  of  clearing  the  timber  from  his 
proposed  estate;  —  which  information  was,  when 
summed  up  and  digested,  in  and  about  as  follows; 

A  good  day-laboror  would  belt  an  acre  a  day ; 
and  he  could  be  hired  for  fifty  cents  a  day.  One 
man,  therefore,  in  a  hundred  days,  would  belt  or 
deaden  one  hundred  acres.  Ten  men,  in  that  time, 
would  belt  a  thousand  acres,  and  at  a  cost  of  five 
hundred  dollars.  A  thousand  acres  of  the  forest 
then,  could  be  easily  deadened  by  the  next  spring. 
As  soon  as  this  is  done,  the  ground  being  freed  from 
the  tax  made  upon  it  by  the  growth  of  the  trees, 
and  the  sun  let  in,  it  would,  in  the  first  season, 
grow  up  in  timothy,  the  spontaneous  growth  of 
these  wilds.  This  thousand  acres  in  that  condition 
would  graze,  the  first  year,  some  five  hundred  head 
of  cattle,  which  could  be  had  at  a  dollar  a  head  for 
the  season.  The  estate  would  yield,  then,  fur  the 
first  year,  five  hundred  dollars.  The  next  year,  the 
same  thousand  acres  would  graze  a  thousand  head 
of  cattle  —  that  is  a  thousand  dollars  it  would  yield 
the  second  year.  The  third  year  you  could  harrow 
over  the  ground,  sow  some  grass-seed  additional, 
maybe,  in  places,  and  go  to  making  hay  for  winter 
use.  This  year  you  could  buy  young  cattle  at 
eight  and  ten  dollars  a  piece,  and  having  the  hay  to 
keep  them  over  winter,  sell  them  the  next  year  at 
eighteen  or  twenty  dollars  a  head.  Some  two  hun- 
10 


218  THE    BLACKWATER    CHRONICLE. 

dred  acres  of  the  thousand  being  kept  for  hay,  you 
could  cut  from  them  at  least  two  tons  to  the  acre. 
A  ton  of  hay  is  good  allowance  for  the  support  of  a 
steer  through  the  winter.  Therefore  you  could 
keep  some  four  hundred  head  over  the  winter ;  four 
hundred  would  be  worth  seven  or  eight  thousand 
dollars  gross  —  equal  to  some  three  or  four  thousand 
dollars  clear.  The  fourth  year  the  roots  of  the  trees 
would  be  all  dead,  and  your  land  fit  for  cultivation 
—  for  raising  wheat,  rye,  oats,  potatoes,  or  whatever 
else  the  climate  and  soil  would  allow ;  and  by  this 
time  the  land  kept  in  timothy  would  grow  from 
three  to  five  tons  of  hay  to  the  acre. 

From  this  digest  of  the  information  communi 
cated  by  Powell,  the  reader  will  perceive  that  the 
speculation  will  be  a  grand  one  in  a  money  point 
of  view  ;  and  Peter  and  Adolphus  were  already,  in 
their  mind's  eye,  great  cattle-raisers,  with  numerous 
herdsmen,  and  almost  innumerable  bullocks  over 
their  vast  possessions  —  say  some  fifty  thousand 
acres  apiece — here  on  the  slopes  and  lawns  of  the 
Backbone ;  and  their  houses  were  filled,  during 
the  summer  months,  with  gentlemen  and  ladies, 
who  hunted  and  rode,  fished,  eat  the  trout,  the 
broils,  and  roasts  and  pastries  of  the  deer,  with 
bear's  meat,  and  panther  or  wild-cat  collops — 
grew  fat  and  defied  the  world  below,  in  the  pas 
times  of  the  wilderness — then  a  wilderness  made 
easy  of  ingress  and  egress  by  fine  graded  roads,  cut 


THE    KETUEN    TO    WINSTON.  219 

out  by  the  great  proprietors,  Peter  and  Galen  — 
whose  two  castles  of  old  Saxon  architecture,  built 
on  either  slope  of  the  mountain,  would  enable  the 
Backbone  to  frown  down  on  the  Potomac  on  the 
one  side,  on  the  Blackwater  on  the  other,  as  — 

"The  castled  crag  of  Drakenfels 
Frown's  o'er  the  wide  and  winding  Rhine." 

In  the  meantime,  while  all  this  future  was  enter 
ing  deep  into  the  hearts  of  the  two  lords  paramount 
of  these  regions  —  the  duke  of  Canaan,  and  the 
baron  of  the  Backbone — Andante  and  the  Master 
were  stretched  out  upon  the  grass,  a  little  distance 
off,  commenting  upon  the  scene  around  them. 

"Did  you  ever  see  a  more  perfectly  ruffian- 
looking  couple  of  fellows  in  your  life,  than  those 
two  great  landholders  yonder." 

"They  put  me  in  mind  of  the  vagabond  banditti 
that  used  to  infest  the  stage  in  Fra  Diavolo." 

UI  don't  think  you  look  any  better,  Guy !" 

"  Nor  I,  you,  Signer !  If  I  were  to  meet  you 
alone  on  the  highway,  I  would  give  you  a  very 
wide  berth.  I  don't  think  I  have  ever  seen  in 
painting,  or  read  of  in  description,  a  more  unmiti 
gated  ruffian  than  you  look  !" 

"  Trip,  sprawled  out  yonder,  comes  up  to  my  idea 
of  a  red  republican  crippled  in  the  leg  at  a  barri 
cade." 

"  I  can  understand  very  well,  why  we  should 
look  like  a  set  of  vagabonds  who  would  steal  sheep, 


220  THE    BLACKWATER    CHRONICLE. 

and  pigs,  and  poultry ;  but  that  is  not  it.  There  is  a 
look  about  us  of  a  set  of  men  who  would  rob,  and 
murder,  burn,  plunder  and  ravage  a  whole  country. 
There  is  no  such  look  about  Powell  and  Conway." 

"I  understand  it  this  way,"  said  Andante,  "I 
think  it  quite  likely,  that  degrade  us  from  our  rank 
as  gentlemen  —  take  away  all  the  restraints  of  civili 
zation  from  us  —  in  other  words,  put  us  down  on 
the  Spanish  main,  and  we  would  discover  some 
qualities  that  would  be  considered  right  respectable 
among  pirates." 

"  What !  do  you  think  that  of  But !" 

"  No,  I  except  him.  If  he  was  to  embark  in  life 
on  the  Spanish  main,  I  think  he  would  be  taken  and 
hung." 

Here  Mr.  Butcut,  hearing  something  about  his 
being  captured  and  hung,  the  visioned  bliss,  and 
power,  and  dominion  over  great  estates,  &c.,  &c., 
which  filled  and  thrilled  his  brain  all  the  morning, 
were  all  obliterated  from  his  mind  by  the  unhappy 
idea;  and  turning  his  thoughts  altogether  away 
from  the  Blackwater,  he  entered  into  a  very  earnest 
maintenance  of  the  opinion,  that  he  would  make  as 
good  a  pirate  as  any  gentleman  present. 

"In  fact,  gentlemen,"  he  said,  concluding  his 
defence  of  himself,  "I  believe,  barring,  always,  the 
walking  and  starving,  I  would  be  as  efficient  a  man 
as  any  of  you,  upon  any  marauding  expedition, 
whether  by  sea  or  land." 


THE    KETUKN    TO    WINSTON.  221 

"Feed  him  enough,  and  carry  him  —  and  I  be 
lieve  so  too,"  said  Trip. 

After  this  very  just  remark  of  Triptolemus's, 
which  was  assented  to  on  all  hands,  our  horses 
came  in  sight,  emerging  from  the  woods ;  and  we 
began  preparations  for  our  departure. 

Having  paid  all  expenses  at  the  Hotel  Conway, 
handsomely  —  shaken  hands  kindly  with  all  the 
family  (amounting  to  some  eight  or  ten,  big  and 
little),  especially  taking  care  not  to  forget  the  oldest 
daughter  of  the  old  forester,  who  had  a  soft  hand 
and  a  kindling  eye,  and  was  a  very  modest,  and 
very  pretty  maiden  of  some  seventeen  summers, 
we  turned  our  steps  Towers-ward ;  and  half  of  us 
a-foot,  and  half  a-horse,  we  defiled  into  the  forest, 
presenting  to  the  eye  a  very  good  picture  of  the 
vagabond  picturesque  in  scenery.  As  we  went  out 
we  might  have  passed  well  enough  for  the  nobler 
order  of  outlaws — such  as  Robin  Hood,  and  Little 
John,  and  Will  Scarlet ;  and  Butcut  would  have 
done  for  the  jolly  friar — but  now,  all  tattered  and 
torn,  the  glory  of  our  trim  array  all  gone — our 
plumage  drooping,  and  general  aspect  beggarly, 
we  more  resembled  a  band  of  the  inferior  banditti 
who  infest  the  neighborhood  of  pig-pens  and  poultry 
yards.  Still  we  were  picturesque  of  aspect ;  and 
as  we  followed  the  winding  horsepath,  up  the  hill 
sides  and  down  the  steeps  —  now  through  the  little 
streams  that  made  their  way  to  the  Potomac — into 


222  THE   BLACKWATEK    CHRONICLE. 

the  dells,  and  through  them,  and  up  out  of  them 
again,  until  we  reached  the  cone  of  the  Backbone ; 
and  so,  on  and  along  it,  until  we  came  out  into  the 
northwestern  highway  —  there  were  many  points  of 
view  in  which  an  artist  could  have  made  a  picture 
of  our  march,  worthy  of  being  hung  up  anywhere 
in  the  halls  and  bowers  of  our  land.     Indeed,  the 
Signor  says,  that  he  has  it  now  in  his  mind's  eye, 
and  that  some  day,  when  his  genius  is  sufficiently 
inspired,  he  will  render  the  expedition  as  memorable 
as  that  of  Xenophon,  by  putting  it  on  canvass  as  it 
wound  its  way  out  dismantled  through  the  romantic 
scenery  of  the  Backbone ;  choosing  this  one  of  its 
many  aspects,  by  which  to  perpetuate  its  remem 
brance,  because,  as  there  is  dignity  in  sufferings 
endured,  its  great  toils  and  hardships  will  be  im 
pressed  more  fully  upon  the  mind,  by  the  tatterde- 
mallion  aspect  that  so  thoroughly  belonged  to  it,  as 
it  approached  its  end. 

After  reaching  the  highway  we  have  nothing 
more  to  record,  except  that  the  travellers  along  the 
road,  in  every  instance,  gave  us  the  track  by  shying 
off  to  the  right  or  the  left,  out  of  our  way  ;  and  that 
they  returned  our  salutation  with  a  glad  and  sub 
servient  courtesy ;  which  shows  that  the  people 
who  travel  these  regions,  are  either  very  civil  in 
their  manners,  or  that  they  took  us  for  a  band  of 
most  desperate  ruffians,  which,  we  leave  the  judi 
cious  reader  to  determine.  Thus,  in  full  and  un- 


THE  RETUUN  TO  WINSTON.  223 

disputed  possession  of  the  right  of  way  to  the  whole 
or  any  part  of  the  northwestern  turnpike  that  we 
chose  to  take,  we  at  length,  at  about  five  o'clock  in 
the  afternoon  of  the  fifth  day,  dismounted  at  Towers's 
gate,  all  alive  and  well — restored  by  Heaven  to  the 
regions  of  civilization — toughened,  roughened,  high 
in  health,  strong  in  limb,  and  joyously  elate  with 
the  achievement  of  our  hardy  enterprise  ;  as — 

"  Full  of  spirit  as  the  month  of  May." 

though  not  quite  so — 

"Gorgeous  as  the  sun  at  midsummer." 

And   so  ends   the    adventure   into   the   Canaan 
wilderness  of  Randolph. 

Here,  also,  ends  this  Black  water  Chronicle. 


J.  S.  REDFTELD, 

110  AND  112  NASSAU  STREET,  NEW  YORK, 

HAS  JUST  PUBLISHED: 


EPISODES  OF  INSECT  LIFE. 

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made  ugly  or  repulsive.  A  charm  is  thrown  around  every  object,  and  life  suffused 
through  all.  suggestive  of  the  Creator's  goodness  and  wisdom."—  IV.  Y  Evangelist 

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MEN  AND   WOMEN  OF  THE  EIGHTEENTH  CENTURY. 

By  ARSENE  HOUSSAYK,  with  beautifully  Engraved  Portraits  of 
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CONTENTS.— Dufrcsny,  Fontenelle,  Marivaux,  Piron,  The  Abbe  Prevost,  Gentil-Bcrnard, 
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REDFIELD'S  NEW  AND  POPULAR  PUBLICATION*. 


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ANCIENT  EGYPT  UNDER  THE  PHARAOHS. 
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COMPARATIVE  PHYSIOGNOMY; 

Or  Resemblances  between  Men  and  Animals.  By  J.  W.  REDFIELD, 
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price,  $2.00. 

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NOTES  AND  EMENDATIONS  OF  SHAKESPEARE. 

Notes  and  Emendations  to  the  Text  of  Shakespeare's  Plays,  from 
the  Early  Manuscript  Corrections  in  a  copy  of  the  folio  of  1^32, 
in  the  possession  of  JOHN  PAYNE  COLLIER,  Esq.,  F.S.A.  Third 
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think,  of  more  value  than  the  labors  of  nearly  all  the  critics  on  Shakespeare's  text  put 
together." — London  Literary  Gazette. 

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Philadelphia. 


THE  HISTORY  OF  THE  CRUSADES. 

By  JOSEPH  FRANCOIS  MICHAUD.     Translated  by  W.  Robson,  3  vols. 
"'  maps,  $3  75. 


"  It  is  comprehensive  and  accurate  in  the  detail  of  facts,  methodical  and  lucid  in  ar 
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of  the  Crusades.  This  history  has  long  been  the  standard  work  with  all  who  could 
read  it  in  its  original  language.  Another  work  on  the  same  subject  is  as  improbable 
as  a  new  history  of  the  'Decline  and  Fall  of  the  Roman  Empire.'  "  —  Salem  Freeman. 

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dent  must  now  resort  for  copious  and  authentic  facts,  and  luminous  views  respecting 
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Daily  Courier. 


MARMADUKE  WYVIL. 

An  Historical  Romance  of  1651,  by  HENRY  W.  HERBERT,  author 
of  the  "  Cavaliers  of  England,"  &c.,  &c.  Fourteenth  Edition. 
Revised  and  Corrected. 

41  This  is  one  of  the  best  works  of  the  kind  we  have  ever  read— full  of  thrilling  inci 
dents  and  adventures  in  the  stirring  times  of  Cromwell,  and  in  that  style  which  has 
made  the  works  of  Mr.  Herbert  so  popular."—  Christian  Freeman,  Boston. 

"The  work  is  distinguished  by  the  same  historical  knowledge,  thrilling  incident,  and 
pictorial  beauty  ot'style,  which  have  characterized  all  Mr.  Herbert's  fictions  and  imparted 
to  them  such  a  bewitching  interest." — Ymikee  Blade. 

"  Tiie  author  out  of  a  simple  plot  and  very  few  characters,  has  constructed  a  novel 
of  deep  interest  and  of  considerable  historical  value.  It  will  be  found  well  worth 
reading."— National  <Egis,  Worcester. 


REDFIELD'S  NEW  AND  POPULAR  PUBLICATIONS. 

DISCOVERY  AND  EXPLORATION 

Of  the  Mississippi  Valley.  With  the  Original  Narratives  of  Mar- 
quette,  Allouez,  Membre,  Hennepin,  and  Anastase  Douay.  By 
JOHN  GILMARY  SHEA.  With  a  fac-simile  of  the  Original  Map 
of  Marquette.  1  vol.,  8vo, ;  Cloth.  Antique.  $2.00. 

"  A  volume  of  great  and  curious  interest  to  all  concerned  to  know  the  early  history 
of  this  great  Western  land."—  Cincinnati  Christian  Herald. 

"We  believe  that  this  is  altogether  the  most  thorough  work  that  has  appeared  on  the 
•ubjfct  to  which  it  relates.  It  is  the  result  of  long-continued  and  diligent  research,  and 
no  legitimate  source  of  information  has  been  left  unexplored.  The  work  combines  the 
interest  of  romance  with  the  authenticity  of  history."— Puritan  Recorder. 

"  Mr.  Shea  has  rendered  a  service  to  the  cause  of  historical  literature  worthy  of  all 
praise  by  the  excellent  manner  in  which  he  has  prepared  this  important  publication  for 
the  press." — Boston  Traveller. 


NEWMAN'S  REGAL  ROME. 

An  Introduction  to  Roman  History.  By  FRANCIS  W.  NEWMAN, 
Professor  of  Latin  in  the  University 'College,  London.  12mo, 
Cloth.  63  cents. 

••  The  book,  though  small  in  compass,  is  evidently  the  work  of  great  research  and 
reflection,  and  is  a  valuable  acquisition  to  historical  literature."—  Courier  and  Enquirer. 

"  A  work  of  great  erudition  and  power,  vividly  reproducing  the  wonderful  era  of  Ro 
man  history  under  the  kings.  We  greet  it  as  a  work  wf  profound  scholarship,  genial 
art,  and  eminent  interest— a  work  that  will  attract  the  scholar  and  please  the  general 
reader."— TV.  Y.  Evangelist. 

"  Nearly  all  the  histories  in  the  schools  should  be  banished,  and  such  as  this  should 
take  tlieir  places." — Boston  Journal. 

"  Professor  Newman's  work  will  be  found  full  of  interest,  from  the  light  it  throws  on 
the  formation  of  the  language,  the  races,  and  the  history,  of  ancient  Rome."—  Wall- 
itreet  Journal. 


THE  CHEVALIERS  OF  FRANCE, 

From  the  Crusaders  to  the  Mareschals  of  Louis  XIV.  By  HENRI 
W.  HERBERT,  author  of  "The  Cavaliers  of  England,"  "  Crom 
well,"  "The  Brothers,"  &c.,  &c.  1  vol.  12mo.  $1.25. 

•'  Mr.  Herbert  is  one  of  the  best  writers  of  historical  tales  and  legends  in  this  or  an 
jther  country." — Christian  Freeman. 

"  This  is  a  work  of  great  power  oi  thought  and  vividness  of  picturing.  It  is  a  movinj 
panorama  of  the  inner  life  of  the  French  empire  in  the  days  of  chivalry." — Albany  Spec 

'•  Tlie  series  of  works  by  this  author,  illustrative  of  the  romance  of  history,  is  dn.-rrv 
edly  popular.  They  serve,  indeed,  to  impart  and  impress  on  the  mind  a  great  denl  ol 
vuluahle  information  ;  for  the  facts  of  history  are  impartially  exhibited,  and  the  fictioi 
presents  a  vivid  picture  of  the  manners  and  sentiments  of  the  times." — Journal  of  Com 
mere*. 

"  The  work  contains  four  historical  tales  or  novelettes,  marked  by  that  vigor  of  style 
and  beauty  of  description  which  have  found  so  many  admirers  among  the  readers  of 
the  author's  numerous  romanaes." — Lowell  Journal. 


REDFIELD'S  NEW  AND  POPULAR  PUBLICATIONS. 

MOORE'S  LIFE  OF  SHERIDAN. 

Memoirs  of  the  Life  of  the  Rt.  Hon.  Richard  Brinsley  Sheridan, 
by  THOMAS  MOORE,  with  Portrait  after  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds. 
Two  vols.,  12mo,  cloth,  $2.00. 

"  One  of  the  most  brilliant  biographies  in  English  literature.  It  is  the  life  of  a  wit 
written  by  a  wit.  and  few  of  Tom  Moore's  most  sparkling  poems  are  more  brilliant  and 
fascinating  than  this  biography ."—  Boston  Transcript. 

"  This  is  «t  once  a  most  valuable  biography  of  the  most  celebrated  wit  of  the  times, 
and  one  of  the  most  entertaining  works  oi  its  gifted  author." — Springfield  Republican. 

"  The  Life  of  Sheridan,  the  wit,  contains  as  much  food  for  serious  thought  as  the 
best  sermon  that  was  ever  penned." — Arthurs  Home  Gazette. 

"The  sketch  of  such  a  character  and  career  as  Sheridan's  by  such  a  hand  as  Moore's, 
can  never  cease  to  be  attractive." — N.  Y.  Courier  and  Enquirer. 

"  The  work  is  instructive  and  full  of  interest." — Christian  Intelligencer. 

"  It  is  a  gem  of  biography ;  full  of  incident,  elegantly  written,  warmly  appreciative, 
and  on  the  whole  candid  and  just.  Sheridan  was  a  rare  and  wondertul  genius,  and  has 
in  this  work  justice  done  to  his  surpassing  merits."—  N.  Y.  Evangelist. 


BARRINGTON'S  SKETCHES. 

Personal  Sketches  of  his  own  Time,  by  SIR  JONAH  BARRINGTON, 
Judge  of  the  High  Court  of  Admiralty  in  Ireland,  with  Illustra 
tions  by  Darley.  Third  Edition,  12mo,  cloth,  $1  25. 

"  A  more  entertaining  book  than  this  is  not  often  thrown  in  our  way.  His  sketches 
of  character  are  inimitable  ;  and  many  of  the  prominent  men  of  his  time  are  hit  ofl'in 
the  most  striking  and  graceful  outline." — Albany  Argus. 

"  He  was  a  very  shrewd  observer  and  eccentric  writer,  and  his  narrative  of  his  own 
life,  and  sketches  of  society  in  Ireland  during  his  times,  are  exceedingly  humorous  and 
interesting." — N.  Y.  Commercial  Advertiser. 

"  It  is  one  of  those  works  which  are  conceived  and  written  in  so  hearty  a  view,  and 
brings  before  the  reader  so  many  palpable  and  amusing  characters,  that  the  entertain 
ment  and  information  are  equally  balanced." —  Boston  Transcript. 

"  This  is  one  of  the  most  entertaining  books  of  the  season." — N.  Y.  Recorder. 

"  It  portrays  in  life-like  colors  the  characters  and  daily  habits  of  nearly  all  the  Eng 
lish  and  Irish  celebrities  of  that  period."—  N.  Y.  Courier  and  Enquirer. 


JO  MINI'S   CAMPAIGN  OF   WATERLOO. 

The  Political  and  Military  History  of  the  Campaign  of  Waterloo, 
from  the  French  of  Gen.  Baron  Jomini,  by  Lieut.  S.  V.  BENET, 
U.  S.  Ordnance,  with  a  Map,  12mo,  cloth,  75  cents. 

"  Of  great  value,  both  for  its  historical  merit  and  its  acknowledged  impartiality." — 
Christian  Freeman,  Boston. 

"  It  has  long  been  regarded  in  Europe  as  a  work  of  more  than  ordinary  merit,  while 
to  military  men  his  review  of  the  tactics  and  mano3uvres  of  the  French  Emperor  dur 
ing  the  few  days  which  preceded  his  final  and  most  disastrous  defeat,  is  considered  as 
instructive,  as  it  is  interesting."—  Arthur's  Home  Gazette. 

"  It  is  a  standard  authority  and  illustrates  a  subject  of  permanent  interest.  With 
military  students,  and  historical  inquirers,  it  will  be  a  favorite  reference,  and  for  the 
general  reader  it  possesses  great  value  and  interest." — Boston  Transcript. 

"  It  throws  much  light  on  often  mooted  points  respecting  Napoleon's  military  and 
political  genius.  The  translation  is  one  of  much  vigor."—  Boston  Commonwealth. 

"It  supplies  an  important  chapter  in  the  most  interesting  and  eventful  period  of  Na 
poleon's  military  career." — Savannah  Daily  News. 

"It  is  ably  written  and  skilfully  translated."—  Yankee  Blade. 


REDFIELD'S  NEW  AND  POPULAR  PUBLICATIONS. 

MACAULATS  SPEECHES. 

Speeches  by  the  Right  Hon.  T.  B.  MACAULAY,  M.  P.,  Author  of 
"  The  History  of  England,"  "  Lays  of  Ancient  Rome,"  &c.,  &c. 
Two  vols.,  12mo,  price  $2.00. 

"  It  is  hard  to  say  whether  his  poetry,  his  speeches  in  parliament,  or  his  brilliant 
essays,  are  the  most  charming ;  each  has  raised  him  to  very  great  eminence,  and  would 
be  sufficient  to  constitute  the  reputation  of  any  ordinary  man." — Sir  Archibald  Alison. 

"  It  may  be  said  that  Great  Britain  has  produced  no  statesman  since  Burke,  who  has 
united  in  so  eminent  a  degree  as  Macaulay  the  lofty  and  cultivated  genius,  the  eloquent 
orati  r,  and  the  sagacious  and  far-reaching  politician." — Albany  Argus. 

"  We  do  not  know  of  any  living  English  orator,  whose  eloquence  comes  so  near  the 
ancient  ideal— close,  rapid,  powerful,  practical  reasoning,  animated  by  an  intense  earn 
estness  of  feeling."—  Courier  ff  Enquirer. 

"  Mr.  Macaula'y  has  lately  acquired  as  great  a  reputation  as  an  orator,  as  he  had  for 
merly  won  as  an  essayist  and  historian.  He  takes  in  his  speeches  the  same  wide  and 
comprehensive  grasp  of  his  subject  that  he  does  in  his  essays,  and  treats  it  in  the  same 
elegant  style." — Philadelphia  Evening  Bulletin. 

"  The  same  elaborate  finish,  sparkling  antithesis,  full  sweep  and  copious  flow  oi 
thought,  and  transparency  of  style,  which  made  his  essays  so  attractive,  are  found  in 
his  speeches.  They  are  so  perspicuous,  so  brilliantly  studded  with  ornament  and  illus 
tration,  and  BO  resistless  in  their  current,  that  they  appear  at  the  time  to  be  the  wisest 
and  greatest  of  human  compositions." — NetoYork  Evangelist. 


TRENCH  ON  PROVERBS. 

On  the  Lessons  in  Proverbs,  by  RICHARD  CHENEVIX  TRENCH,  B.  D., 
Professor  of  Divinity  in  Kmg's  College,  London,  Author  of  the 
44  Study  of  Words."  12mo,  cloth,  50  cents. 

"Another  charming  book  by  the  author  of  the  "  Study  of  Words,"  on  a  subject  which 
is  so  ingeniously  treated,  that  we  wonder  no  one  has  treated  it  before." — Yankee  Blade. 

"  It  is  a  book  at  once  profoundly  instructive,  and  at  the  same  time  deprived  of  all 
approach  to  dryness,  by  the  charming  manner  in  which  the  subject  is  treated."—  Ar 
thur's  Home  Gazette. 

"  It  is  a  wide  field,  and  one  which  the  author  has  well  cultivated,  adding  not  only  to 
hie  own  reputation,  but  a  valuable  work  to  our  literature."— Albany  Evening  Transcript. 

"  The  work  shows  an  acute  perception,  a  genial  appreciation  of  wit,  and  great  re 
search.  It  is  a  very  rare  and  agreeable  production,  which  may  be  read  with  profit  and 
delight."— New  York  Evangelist. 

"  The  style  of  the  author  is  terse  and  vigorous— almost  a  model  in  its  kind."— Port- 
(and  Eclectic. 


THE  LION  SKIN 

And  the  Lover  Hunt;  by  CHARLES  DE  BERNARD.     12mo,  $1.00. 

"  It  is  not  often  the  novel-reader  can  find  on  his  bookseller's  shelf  a  publication  so  full 
of  incidents  and  good  humor,  and  at  the  same  time  so  provocative  of  honest  thought." 
-  -National  (Worcester,  Mass.)  Mgis. 

"  It  is  full  of  incidents  ;  and  the  reader  becomes  so  interested  in  the  principal  person 
ages  in  the  work,  that  he  is  unwilling  to  lay  the  book  down  until  he  has  learned  their 
whole  history." — Boston  Olive  Branch. 

''  It  iscefreshiner  to  meet  occnsionally  with  a  well-published  story  which  is  written  for 
a  story,  and  for  nothing  else— which  is  not  tipped  with  the  snapper  of  a  moral,  or 
loaded  in  the  handle  with  a  pound  of  philanthropy,  or  an  equal  quantity  of  leaden  ph> 
losophy." — Springfield  Republican. 


REDFIELD'S  NEW  AND  POPULAR  PUBLICATIONS. 

A  STRAY  YANKEE  IN  TEXAS. 

A  Stray  Yankee  in  Texas.     By  PHILIP  PAXTON.     With  Illustia- 
tions  by  Darley.     Second  Edition,  12mo.,  cloth.     $1  25. 

"  The  work  is  a  chef  d'ozuvre  in  a  style  of  literature  in  which  our  country  has  no 
rival,  and  wo  commend  it  to  all  who  are  afflicted  with  the  blues  or  ennui,  as  an  effec 
tual  means  ot  tickling  their  diaphragms,  and  giving  their  cheeks  a  holyday." — Bostot 
Yankee  Blade. 

"  We  find,  on  a  perusal  of  it,  that  Mr.  Paxton  has  not  only  produced  a  readable,  bu1 
a  valuable  book,  as  regards  reliable  information  on  Texan  affairs. — Hartford  Christian 
Secretary. 

"  The  book  is  strange,  wild,  humorous,  and  yet  truthful.  It  will  be  found  admirably 
descriptive  of  a  state  of  society  which  is  fast  losing  its  distinctive  peculiarities  in  tht 
rapid  increase  of  population." — Arthur's  Home  Gazette. 

"  One  of  the  richest,  most  entertaining,  and,  at  the  same  time,  instructive  works  one 
could  well  desire.1'— Syracuse  Daily  Journal. 

"  The  book  is  a  perfect  picture  of  western  manners  and  Texan  adventures,  and  will 
occasion  many  a  hearty  laugh  in  the  reader."— Albany  Daily  State  Register. 


NICK  OF  THE  WOODS. 

Nick  of  the  Woods,  or  the  Jibbenainosay  ;  a  Tale  of  Kentucky.  By 
ROBERT  M.  BIRD,  M.  D.,  Author  of  "Calavar,"  "The  Infidel," 
&c.  New  and  Revised  Edition,  with  Illustrations  by  Darley.  ] 
volume,  12mo.,  cloth,  $1  25. 

"  One  of  those  singular  tales  which  impress  themselves  in  ineradicable  characters 
upon  the  memory  of  every  imaginative  reader." — Arthur's  Home  Gazette. 

"Notwithstanding  it  takes  the  form  of  a  novel,  it  is  understood  to  be  substantial  truth 
in  the  dress  of  fiction  ;  and  nothing  is  related  but  which  has  its  prototype  in  actual 
reality.'* — Albany  Argus. 

•'  It  is  a  tal-  of  frontier  life  and  Indian  warfare,  written  by  a  masterly  pen,  with  its 
scenes  so  graphically  depicted  that  they  amount  to  a  well-executed  painting,  at  once 
striking  and  thrilling."— Buffalo  Express. 


WHITE,  RED,  AND  BLACK. 

Sketches  of  American  Society,  during  the  Visits  of  their  Guests,  by 
FRANCIS  and  THERESA  PULSZKY.      Two  vols.,  12mo.,   cloth,  $2. 

•'  Mr.  Pulszky  and  his  accomplished  wife  have  produced  an  eminently  candid  and 
judicious  book,  which  will  be  read  with  pleasure  and  profit  on  both  sides  of  the  Allan 
tic." — New  York  Daily  Times. 

"  The  authors  have  here  furnished  a  narrative  of  decided  interest  and  value.  They 
have  given  us  a  view  of  the  Hungarian  war,  a  description  of  the  Hungarian  passage  tc 
this  country,  and  a  sketch  of  Hungarian  travels  over  the  country." — Philad.  Christian 
Chronicle. 

"Of  all  the  recent  books  on  America  by  foreign  travellers,  this  is  at  once  the  most 
fair  and  the  most  correct." — Philad.  Saturday  Gazette. 

"Unlike  most  foreign  tourists  in  the  United  States,  they  speak  of  our  institutions, 
manners,  customs,  &c  ,  with  marked  candor,  and  at  the  same  time  evince  a  pretty  thor 
ou«h  knowledge  of  our  history." — Hartford  Christian  Secretary. 

"  This  is  a  valuable  book,  when  we  consider  the  amount  and  variety  of  the  informa 
turn  it  contains,  and  when  we  estimate  the  accuracy  with  which  the  facts  are  detailed. 
—  Worcester  Spy 


REDFIELDS    NEW    AND    POPULAR    PUBLICATIONS. 


POETICAL   WORKS  OF  FITZ-GREENE  HALLECK. 

New  and  only  Complete  Edition,  containing  several  New  Poems, 
together  with  many  now  first  collected.  One  vol.,  12mo.,  price 
one  dollar. 

"Halleck  is  one  of  the  brightest  stars  in  our  American  literature,  and  his  name  is 
hke  a  household  word  wherever  the  English  language  is  spoken."—  Albany  Express. 

"There  are  few  poems  to  be  found,  in  any  language,  that  surpass,  in  beauty  of 
thought  and  structure,  some  of  these."— Boston  Commonwealth. 

"  To  the  numerous  admirers  of  Mr.  Halleck,  this  will  be  a  welcome  hook  ;  for  it  is  a 
characteristic  desire  in  human  nature  to  have  the  productions  of  our  favorite  authors 
in  an  elegant  and  substantial  form." — Christian  Freeman. 

"  Mr.  Halleck  never  appeared  in  a  better  dress,  and  few  poets  ever  deserved  a  better 
one." —  Christian  Intelligencer. 


THE  STUDY  OF  WORDS. 
By  Archdeacon  R.  C.  TRENCH.     One  vol.,  12mo.,  price  75  eta. 

"  He  discourses  in  a  truly  learned  and  lively  manner  upon  the  original  unity  of  Ian 
guage,  and  the  origin,  derivation,  and  history  of  words,  with  their  morality  and  sep 
arate  spheres  of  meaning. ' — Evening  J-  st 

"  This  is  a  noble  tribute  to  the  divin>  faculty  of  speech.  Popularly  written,  for  use 
as  lectures,  exact  in  its  learning,  and  Aortic  in  its  vision,  it  is  a  book  at  once  for  the 
scholar  and  the  general  reader." — New  \  ork  Evangelist. 

44  It  is  one  of  the  most  striking  and  original  publications  of  the  day,  with  nothing  of 
hardness,  dullness,  or  dryneps  about  it,  but  altogether  fresh,  lively,  and  entertaining." 
—Boston  Evening  Traveller. 


BRONCHITIS,  AND  KINDRED  DISEASES. 
In  language  adapted  to  common  readers.     By  W.  W.  HALL,  M.  D. 

One  vol.,  12  mo,  price  $1.00. 

44  It  is  written  in  a  plain,  direct,  common-sense  style,  and  is  free  from  the  quackery 
which  marks  many  of  the  popular  medical  books  of  the  day.  It  will  prove  useful  to 
those  who  need  it."—  Central  Ch.  Herald. 

44  Those  who  are  clergymen,  or  who  are  preparing  for  the  sacred  calling,  and  public 
speakers  generally,  should  not  fail  of  securing  this  work." — Ch.  Ambassador. 

"  It  is  full  of  hints  on  the  nature  of  the  vital  organs,  and  does  away  with  much  super 
stitious  dread  in  regard  to  consumption." — Greene  County  Whig. 

•'  This  work  gives  some  valuable  instruction  in  regard  to  food  and  hygienic  infla- 
mces."—  Nashua  Oasis. 


KNIGHTS  OF  ENGLAND,  FRANCE,  AND  SCOTLAND. 
l5y  HENRY  WILLIAM  HERBERT.     One  vol.,  12mo.,  price  $1.25. 

4<  Tfc*y  are  partly  the  romance  of  history  and  partly  fiction,  forming,  when  blended, 
portraitures,  valuable  from  the  correct  drawing  of  the  times  they  illustrate,  and  interest 
iny;  from  their  romance." — Albany  Knickerbocker. 

"  They  are  spirit-stirring  productions,  which  will  be  read  and  admired  by  all  who 
•re  pleased  with  historical  tales  written  in  a  vigorous,  bold,  and  dashing  style." — Boston 
Journal. 

"  These  legends  of  love  and  chivalry  contain  some  of  the  finest  tales  which  the 
?rnphic  and  powerful  pen  of  Herbert  has  yet  given  to  the  lighter  literature  of  the  day.* 

im^oU  Free  Press. 


REDFIELD'S  NEW  AND  POPULAR  PUBLICATIONS 


LYRA,  AND  OTHER  POEMS. 
By  ALICE  CAREY.     In  one  volume,  12mo,  cloth,  price  75  ct8. 

"Whether  poetry  be  defined  as  the  rhythmical  creation  of  beauty,  as  passion  or  elo 
quence  in  larmonious  numbers,  or  as  thought  and  feeling  manifested  by  processes  of 
the  imagination,  Alice  Carey  is  incontestably  and  incomparably  the  first  living  American 
poetess— fresh,  indigenous,  national — rich  beyond  precedent  in  suitable  and  sensuous  im 
agery — of  the  finest  and  highest  qualities  of  feeling,  and  such  powers  of  creation  as  the 
Almighty  has  seen  fit  to  bestow  but  rarely  or  in  far-separated  countries." — Bost.  Trans. 

"  The  genuine  inspiration  of  poetic  feeling, . . .  replete  with  tenderness  and  beauty, 
earnestness  and  truthful  simplicity,  and  all  the  attributes  of  a  powerful  imagination  and 
vivid  fancy.  We  know  of  no  superior  to  Miss  Carey  among  the  female  authors  of  this 
country." — New  York  Journal  of  Commerce. 

"Alice  Carey's  book  is  full  of  beautiful  thoughts;  there  is  draught  after  draught  of, 
pure  pleasure  for  the  lover  of  sweet,  tender  fancies,  and  imagery  which  captivates 
while  it  enforces  truth." — New  York  Qourier  and  Inquirer. 

"  'Lyra  and  other  Poems,'  just  published  by  Redfidd,  attracts  everywhere,  a  remark 
able  degree  of  attention.  A  dozen  of  the  leading  journals,  and  many  eminent  critics, 
have  pronounced  the  authoress  the  greatest  poetess  living." — New  York  Mirror. 


LILLIAN,  AND  OTHER  POEMS. 

By  WINTHROP  MACKWORT«  PRAED.     Now  first  Collected.     One 
Volume  t2mo.      Price  One  Dollar. 

"  A  timely  publication  is  this  volume.  A  more  charming  companion  (in  the  shape  of 
a  book)  can  scarcely  be  found  for  the  summer  holydays." — New  York  Tribune. 

"  They  are  amusing  sketches,  gay  and  sprightly  in  their  character,  exhibiting  great 
facility  of  composition,  and  considerable  powers  of  satire." — Hartford  Courant. 

"  There  is  a  brilliant  play  of  fancy  in  '  Lillian,'  and  a  moving  tenderness  in  '  Josephine,' 
for  which  it  would  be  hard  to  find  equals.  We  welcome,  therefore,  this  first  collected 
edition  of  his  works." — Albany  Express. 

"  As  a  writer  of  vers  de  societe  he  is  pronounced  to  be  without  an  equal  among  Eng 
lish  authors." — Syracuse  Daily  Journal. 

"  The  author  of  this  volume  was  one  of  the  most  fluent  and  versatile  English  poets  that 
have  shone  in  the  literary  world  within  the  last  century.  His  versification  is  astonish 
ingly  easy  and  airy,  and  his  imagery  not  less  wonderfully  graceful  and  aerial."— Albany 
State  Register. 


THE  CAVALIERS  OF  ENGLAND; 

Or,  the  Times  of  the  Revolutions  of  1642  and  1688.     By  HENRT 
WILLIAM  HERBERT.     One  vol.,  12mo.,  price  Si. 25. 

"  They  are  graphic  stories,  and  in  the  highest  degree  attractive  to  the  imagination  as 
well  as  instructive,  and  can  not  fail  to  be  popular." — Commercial. 

"These  tales  are  written  in  the  popular  author's  best  style,  and  give  us  a  vivid  and 
thrilling  idea  of  the  customs  and  influences  of  the  chivalrous  age." — Christian  Freeman. 

"  His  narrative  is  always  full  of  great  interest ;  his  descriptive  powers  are  of  an  un 
:ommon  order ;  the  romance  of  history  loses  nothing  at  his  hands ;  he  paints  with  the* 
power,  vigor,  and  effect  of  a  master." — The  Times. 

"  They  bring  the  past  days  of  old  England  vividly  before  the  reader,  and  impress  upon 

thr>  mind  with  indelible  force,  the  living  images  of  the  puritans  as  woll  as  the  cavaliers, 

whose  earnest  character  and  noble  deeds  lend  such  a  lively  interest  to  the  legends  of 

!K»  times  in  which  they  lived  and  fought,  loved  and  hated,  prayed  and  revelled"—  Ne» 


REDFIELD'S  NEW  AND  POPUI  *.R  PUBLICATIONS. 


CLOVERNOOK; 

Or,  Recollections  of  our  Neighborhood  in  the  West.  By  ALICK 
CAREY.  Illustrated  by  DARLEY.  One  vol.,  12mo.,  price  $1.00. 
(Fourth  edition.) 

"  In  this  volume  there  is  a  freshness  which  perpetually  charms  the  reader.  You  seem 
to  be  made  free  of  western  homes  at  once." — Old  Colony  Memorial. 

"Thpy  bear  the  true  stamp  of  genius— simple,  natural,  truthful — and  evince  a  keen 

B^nse  of  the  humor  and  pathos,  of  the  comedy  and  tragedy,  of  life  in  the  country  " J 

U  trhittier. 


DREAM-LAND  BY  DAY-LIGHT: 

A  Panorama  of  Romance.     By  CAROLINE  CHESEBRO'.     Illustrated 
by  DARLEY.     One  vol.,  12mo.,  price  $1.25.      (Second  edition.) 

"  These  simple  and  beautiful  stories  are  all  highly  endued  with  an  exquisite  percep 
tion  of  natural  beauty,  with  which  is  combined  an  appreciative  sense  of  its  relation  to 
the  highest  moral  emotionsj' — Albany  State  Register. 

"  Gladly  do  we  greet  this  floweret  in  the  field  of  our  literature,  for  it  is  fragrant  with 
sweet  and  bright  with  hues  that  mark  it  to  be  of  Heaven's  own  planting." — Courier  and 
Enquirer. 

"There  is  a  depth  of  sentiment  and  feeling  not  ordinarily  met  with,  and  some  of  the 
noblest  faculties  and  affections  of  man's  nature  are  depicted  and  illustrated  by  the  skil 
ful  pen  of  the  authoress." — Churchman. 


LAYS  OF  THE  SCOTTISH  CAVALIERS. 

By  WILLIAM  E.  AYTOUN,  Professor  of  Literature  and  Belles-Let- 
tres  in  the  University  of  Edinburgh  and  Editor  of  Blackwood'g 
Magazine.  One  vol.,  12mo.  cloth,  price  $1.00. 

"  Since  Lockhart  and  Macaulay's  ballads,  we  have  had  no  metrical  work  to  be  com 
pared  in  spirit,  vigor,  and  rhythm  with  this.  These  ballads  knbtdy  and  embalm  the 
chief  historical  incidents  of  Scottish  history— literally  in  '  thoughts  that  breathe  and 
words  that  burn.'  They  are  full  of  lyric  energy,  graphic  description,  and  genuine  feel 
Ing." — Home  Journal. 

"  The  fine  ballad  of  '  Montrose'  in  this  collection  is  alone  worth  the  price  of  the  book.' 
liostn  Transcript. 


THE  BOOK  OF  BALLADS. 
By  BON  GAULTIER.     One  volume,  12mo.,  cloth,  price  75  cents. 

"Here  is  a  book  for  everybody  who  loves  classic  fun.  It  is  made  up  of  ballads  of 
^11  sorts,  each  a  capital  parody  upon  the  style  of  some  one  of  the  best  lyric  writers  of 
Ae  time,  from  the  thundering  versification  of  Lockhart  and  Macaulay  to  the  sweetest 
and  simplest  strains  of  Wordsworth  and  Tennyson.  The  author  is  one  of  the  first 
scholars,  and  one  of  the  most  finished  writers  of  the  day,  and  this  production  is  but  the 
frolic  of  his  genius  in  play-time  " — Courier  and  Enquirer. 

"  We  do  not  know  to  whom  belongs  this  nom  de  plume,  but  he  is  certainly  a  humorist 
of  no  commcn  powrr." — Providence  JownaL 


REDFIELD'S  NEW  AND  POPULAR  PUBLICATIONS. 


ISA,  A  PILGRIMAGE. 
By  CAROLINE  CHESEBRO'.     One  vol.,  12mo.,  cloth,  price  $1.00. 

"The  Pilgrimage  is  fraught  throughout  with  scenes  of  thrilling  interest — romantic, 
yet  possessing  a  naturalness  that  seems  to  stamp  them  as  real;  the  style  is  flowing  and 
easy,  chaste  and  beautiful." — Troy  Daily  Times. 

'•  Miss  Chesebro'  is  evidently  a  thinker— she.  skims  not  the  mere  surface  of  life,  but 
plunges  boldly  into  the  hidden  mysteries  of  the  spirit,  by  which  she  is  warranted  in 
making  her  startling  revelations  of  human  passion." — Christicm  Freeman. 

"There  comes  out  in  this  book  the  evidence  of  an  inventive  mind,  a  cultivated  taste, 
an  exquisite  sensibility,  and  a  deep  knowledge  of  human  nature."— Albany  Argus. 

"  It  is  a  charming  book,  pervaded  by  a  vein  of  pure  enno.bling  thought." — Troy  Whig, 

"  There  is  no  one  who  will  doubt  that  this  is  a  courageous  and  able  work,  displaying 
genius  and  depth  of  feeling,  and  striking  at  a  high  and  noble  aim  " — N  Y.  Evangelist. 

"  There  is  a  fine  vein  of  tenderness  running  through  the  story,  which  is  peculiarly 
one  of  passion  and  sentiment." — Arthur's  Home  Gazette. 


A 


LECTURES  AND  MISCELLANIES. 
BY  HENRY  JAMES.     One  vol.,  12mo.,  cloth,    price  $1.25. 

"A  series  of  essays  by  one  of  the  most  generous  thinkers  and  sincere  lovers  of  truth 
in  the  country.  He  looks  at  society  from  an  independent  point  of  view,  and  with  the 
noblest  and  most  intelligent  sympathy." — Home  Journal. 

"This  is  the  production  of  a  mind  richly  ^ndowed  of  a  very  peculiar  mould.  All 
will  concede  to  him  the  merit  of  a  vigorous  and  brilliant  intellect." — Albany  Argus. 

"  A  perusal  of  the  essays  leads  us  to  think,  not  merely  because  of  the  ideas  which 
they  contain,  but  more  because  the  ideas  are  earnestly  put  forth,  and  the  subjects  dis 
cussed  are  interesting  and  important  to  every  one." — Worcester  National  ^Egis. 

"They  have  attracted  much  attention  both  here  and  in  Europe,  where  the  author  ia 
considered  as  holding  a  distinctive  and  prominent  position  in  the  school  of  modern 
philosophy." — Albany  Atlas. 

"  The  writer  wields  a  masterly  and  accurate  pen,  and  his  style  is  good." — Boston 
Olive  Branch. 

"  It  will  have  many  readers,  and  almost  as  many  admirers." — N.  Y.  Times. 


NAPIER'S  PENINSULAR   WAR. 

History  of  the  War  in  the  Peninsula,  and  in  the  South  of  France, 
from  the  Year  1807  to  1814.  BY  W.  F.  P.  NAPIER,  C.  B.,  Co). 
43d  Reg.,  &c.  Complete  in  one  vol.,  8vo.,  price  $3.00. 

"We  believe  the  Literature  of  War  has  not  received  a  more  valuable  augmentation 
this  century  than  Col.  Napier's  justly  celebrated  work.  Though  a  gallant  combatant  in 
tie  field,  he  is  an  impartial  historian." — Tribune. 

11  NAPIER'S  History,  in  addition  to  its  superior  literary  merits  and  truthful  fidelity, 
presents  strong  claims  upon  the  attention  of  all  American  citizens;  because  the  author 
is  a  large-soulfd  philanthropist,  and  an  inflexible  enemy  to  ecclesiastical  tyranny  and 
secular  despots." — Pott. 

"  The  excellency  of  Napier's  History  results  from  the  writer's  happy  talent  for  im 
petuous,  straight-forward,  soul-stirring  narrative  and  picturing  forth  of  characters 
The  military  manoauvre,  march,  and  fiery  onset,  the  whole  whirlwind  vicissitudes  o* 
the  desperat-j  fight,  he  describes  with  dramatic  force."—  Merchants'  Magazine. 


REDFIELD'S  NEW  AND  POPULAR  PUBLICATION?. 


CHARACTERS  IN  THE  GOSPEL, 

Illustrating  Phases  of  Character  at  the  Present  Day.     By  iiev.  E, 
H.  CHAPIN.     One  vol.,  12mo.,  price  50  cents.     (Second  edition.) 

"As  we  read  his  pages,  the  reformer,  the  sensualist,  the  skeptic,  the  man  of  the 
world,  the  seeker,  the  sister  of  charity  and  of  faith,  stand  out  from  the  Scriptures,  and 
join  themselves  with  our  own  living  world." — Christian  Enquirer. 

"Mr.  Chapin  has  an  easy,  graceful  style,  neatly  touching  the  outlines  of  his  pictures, 
nnd  giving  great  consistency  and  beauty  to  the  whole.  The  reader  will  rind  admirable 
descriptions,  some  most  wholesome  lessons,  and  a  fine  spirit." — N.  Y.  Evangelist. 

"  Its  brilliant  vivacity  of  style  forms  an  admirable  combination  with  its  soundness  of 
thought  and  depth  of  feeling."—  Tribune. 


LADIES  OF  THE  COVENANT: 

Memoirs  of  Distinguished  Scottish  Females,  embracing  the  Period 
of  the  Covenant  and  the  Persecution.  By  Rev.  JAMES  ANDER 
SON.  One  vol.,  12mo.,  price  $1.25. 

"  It  is  a  record  which,  while  it  confers  honor  on  the  sex,  will  elevate  the  heart,  and 
strengthen  it  to  the  better  performance  of  every  duty." — Religious  Herald.  (Va.) 

"  It  is  a  book  of  great  attractiveness,  having  not  only  the  freshness  of  novelty,  but 
every  element  of  historical  interest." — Courier  and  Enquirer. 

"  It  is  written  with  great  spirit  and  a  hearty  sympathy,  and  abounds  in  incidents  of 
more  than  a  romantic  interest,  while  the  type  of  piety  it  discloses  is  the  noblest  and 
most  elevated.'1— N.  Y.  Evangelist. 


TALES  AND  TRADITIONS  OF  HUNGARY. 

By  THKRESA   PULSZKY,  with  a  Portrait  of  the  Author.     One  vol., 

price  $1.25. 

THE  above  contains,  in  addition  to  the  English  publication,  a  NEW  PREFACE,  and 
TALES,  now  first  printed  from  the  manuscript  of  the  Author,  who  has  a  direct  interest 
in  the  publication. 

"  This  work  claims  more  attention  than  is  ordinarily  given  to  books  of  its  class.  Such 
is  the  fluency  and  correctness — nay,  even  the  nicety  and  felicity  of  style— with  which 
Madame  Pulszky  writes  the  English  language,  that  merely  in  this  respect  the  tales  here 
collected  form  a  curious  study.  But  they  contain  also  highly  suggestive  illustrations  of 
national  literature  and  character." — London  Examiner. 

"  Freshness  of  subject  is  invaluable  in  literature — Hungary  is  still  fresh  ground.  It 
has  been  trodden,  but  it  is  not  yet  a  common  highway.  The  tales  and  legends  are  very 
various,  from  the  mere  traditional  anecdote  to  the  regular  legend,  and  they  have  the 
sort  of  interest  which  all  national  traditions  excite." — London  Leader. 


SORCERY  AND  MAGIC. 

Narratives  of  Sorcery  and  Magic,  from  the  most  Authentic  Sources. 
By  THOMAS  WRIGHT,  A.M.,  &c.     One  vol.  12mo.,  price  $1.25. 

"  We  have  no  hesitation  in  pronouncing  this  one  of  the  most  interesting  works  whico 
has  for  a  long  time  issued  from  the  press." — Albany  Express. 

"  The  narratives  are  intensely  interesting,  and  the  more  so,  as  they  are  evidently  writ 
ten  by  a  man  whose  object  is  simply  to  tell  the  truth,  and  who  is  not  himself  bewitched 
b*  «i»  favorite  theory  "  N  Y.  Recorder 


REDFIELD  S  NEW  AND  POPULAR  PUBLICATIONS. 


THE  MASTER  BUILDER: 

Or,  Life   at  a  Trade.      By  DAT  KELLOGG  LEE,  author  of  "  Sunv 
mertield,  or  Life  on  the  Farm."     One  vol.,  12mo,  price  Si. 00. 

"  He  is  a  powerful  and  graphic  writer,  and  from  what  we  have  seen  of  the  pajres  o« 
the  '  Master  Builder,'  it  is  a  romance  of  excellent  aim  and  success." — State  Register. 

"  Tho  '  Master  Builder'  is  the  master  production.  It  is  romance  into  which  is  instilled 
the  reality  of  life:  and  incentives  are  put  forth  to  noble  exertion  and  virtue.  The  story 
is  pleasing — almost  fascinating  ;  the  moral  is  pure  and  undefiled." — Daily  Times. 

"Its  descriptions  are,  many  of  them,  strikingly  beautiful;  commingling  in  good  pro 
portions,  the  witty,  the  grotesque,  the  pathetic,  and  the  heroic.  It  may  be  read  with 
profit  as  well  as  pleasure." — Argus. 

"The  work  before  us  will  commend  itself  to  the  masses,  depicting  as  it  does  most 
graphically  the  struggles  and  privations  which  await  the  unknown  and  uncared-for 
Mechanic  in  his  journey  through  life.  It  is  what  might  be  called  a  romance,  but  not  of 
love,  jealousy  and  revenge  order." — Lockport  Courier. 

"  The  whole  scheme  of  the  story  is  well  worked  up  and  very  instructive.'* — Albany 


GRISCOM  ON  VENTILATION. 

The  Uses  and  Abuses  of  Air:  showing  its  Influence  in  Sustaining 
Life,  and  Producing  Disease,  with  Remarks  on  the  Ventilation 
of  Houses,  and  the  best  Methods  of  Securing  a  Pure  and  Whole 
some  Atmosphere  inside  of  Dwellings,  Churches,  Workshops,  &c. 
By  JOHN  H.  GRISCOM,  M.  D.  One  vol.  12mo,  $1.00. 

"This  comprehensive  treatise  should  be  read  by  all  who  wish  to  secure  health, 
and  especially  by  those  constructing  churches,  lecture-rooms,  school-houses,  &c.— It 
is  undoubted,  that  m;my  diseases  are  created  and  spread  in  consequence  of  the  little 
attention  paid  to  proper  ventilation.  Dr.  G.  writes  knowingly  and  plainly  upon  this  all- 
important  topic." — Nncark  Advertiser. 

"  The  whole  book  is  a  complete  manual  of  the  subject  of  which  it  treats  ;  and  we 
renture  to  say  that  the  builder  or  contriver  of  a  dwelling,  school-house,  church,  thea 
tre,  ship,  or  steamboat,  who  neglects  to  inform  himself  of  the  momentous  truths  it 
asserts,  commits  virtually  a  crime  against  society." — N.  Y.  Metropolis. 

"  When  shall  we  learn  to  estimate  at  their  proper  value,  pure  water  and  pure  air, 
which  God  provided  for  man  before  he  made  man,  and  a  very  long  time  before  he 
permitted  the  existence  of  a  doctor  ?  We  commend  the  Uses  and  Abuses  of  Air  to  our 
readers,  assuring  them  that  they  will  find  it  to  contain  directions  for  the  ventilation  of 
dwellings,  which  every  one  who  values  health  and  comfort  should  put  in  practice." — 
N.  Y.  Dispatch. 


HAGAR,  A  STORY  OF  TO-DAY. 

By  ALICE  CAREY,   author  of  "  Clovernook,"   4t  Lyra,   and  Other 
Poems,"  &c.     One  vol.,  12mo,  price  $1.00. 

"A  story  of  rural  and  domestic,  life,  abounding  in  humor,  pathos,  and  that  natural 
ness  in  character  and  conduct  which  made  'Clovernook'  so  great  a  favorite  last  season. 
Passages  in  'Hagar'  are  written  with  extraordinary  power,  its  moral  is  striking  and 
just,  and  the  book  will  inevitably  be  one  of  the  most  popular  productions  of  the  sea 
son." 

"  She  has  a  fine,  rich,  and  purely  original  genius.  Her  country  stories  are  almost 
unequaled." — Knickerbocker  Magazine. 

"  The  Times  speaks  of  Alice  Carey  as  standing  at  the  head  of  the  living  female  wri 
ters  of  America.  We  go  even  farther  in  our  favorable  judgment,  and  express  the  opin 
ion  that  among  those  living  or  dead,  she  has  had  no  equal  in  this  country ;  and  we  know 
of  few  in  the  annals  of  English  literature  who  have  exhibited  superior  gifts  of  real  po 
etic  genius."—  Tk-  (Portland,  Me.)  Eclectic. 


REDFIEIrD's    NEW    AND    POPULAR    PUBLICATIONS. 

Life  under  an  Italian  Despotism ! 

LORENZO   BENONI, 

OR 

PASSAGES  IN  THE  LIFE  OF  AN  ITALIAN. 

One  Vol.,  12-mo,  Cloth— Price  $1.00. 

• 

OPINIONS  OF  THE  PRESS. 

'•  THE  author  of  •  Lorenzo  Benoni'  is  GIOVANNI  RUFFINI,  a  native  of  Genoa,  wlio  effected 
his  escape  from  his  native  country  after  the  attempt  at  revolution  in  1833.  His  book  i«, 
in  substance,  an  authentic  account  of  real  persons  and  incidents,  though  the  writer  has 
chosen  to  adopt .fictitious  and  fantastic  designations  for  himself  and  his  associates.  Since 
1833,  Ruffini  has  resided  chiefly  (if  not  wholly)  in  England  and  France,  where  his  quali 
ties,  we  understand,  have  secured  him  respect  and  regard.  In  1848,  he  WBS  selected  by 
Charles  Albert  to  fill  the  responsible  situation  of  embassador  to  Paris,  in  which  city  he 
had  Ions  been  domesticated  as  a  refugee.  He  ere  long,  however,  relinquished  that  office, 
and  asrain  withdrew  into  private  life.  He  appears  to  have  employed  the  time  of  his  exile 
in  this  country  to  such  advantage  as  to  have  acquired  a  most  uncommon  mastery  over 
the  English  language.  The  present  volume  (we  are  informed  on  good  authority)  is  ex 
clusively  his  own — and,  if  so,  on  the  score  of  style  alone  it  is  a  remarkable  curiosity. 
But  its  matter  also  is  curious." — London  Quarterly  Review  for  July. 

"  A  tale  of  sorrow  that  has  lain  long  in  a  rich  mind,  like  a  ruin  in  a  fertile  country,  and 
is  not  the  less  gravely  impressive  for  the  grace  and  beauty  of  its  coverings  ...  at  the 
same  time  tho  most  determined  novel-reader  could  desire  no  work  more  fascinating  over 
which  to  forget  the  flight  of  time.  ...  No  sketch  of  foreign  oppression  has  ever,  we  be 
lieve,  been  submitted  to  the  English  public  by  a  foreigner,  equal  or  nearly  equal  to  this 
Tolurne  in  literary  merit.  It  is  not  unworthy  to  be  ranked  among  contemporary  works 
whose  season  is  the  century  in  which  their  authors  live." — London  Examiner. 

"The  book  should  be  as  extensively  read  as  'Uncle  Tom's  Cabin,' inasmuch  as  it 
develops  the  existence  of  a  state  of  slavery  and  degradation,  worse  even  than  that  which 
Mrs.  Beecher  Stowe  has  elucidated  with  so  much  pathos  and  feeling." — Bell's  Weekly 
Messenger. 

"  Few  works  of  the  season  will  be  read  with  greater  pleasure  than  this  ;  there  is  a 
great  charm  in  the  quiet,  natural  way  in  which  the  story  is  told." — London  Atlas. 

'•The  author's  great  forte  is  character-painting.  This  portraiture  is  accomplished 
with  remarkable  skill,  the  traits  both  individual  and  national  being  marked  with  great 
nicety  without  obtrusiveness." — London  Spectator. 

'  Under  the  modest  guise  of  the  biography  of  an  imaginary  '  Lorenzo  Benoni,'  we  have 
here,  in  fact,  the  memoir  of  a  man  whose  name  could  not  be  pronounced  in  certain  parts 
of  northern  Italy  without  calling  up  tragic  yet  noble  historical  recollections.  .  .  .  Ita 
merits,  simply  as  a  work  of  literary  ait,  are  of  a  very  high  order.  The  style  is  really 
beautiful — easy,  sprightly,  graceful,  and  full  of  the  happiest  and  most  ingenious  turns  of 
phrase  and  fancy." — North  British  Review. 

"  This  has  been  not  unjustly  compared  to  '  Gil  Bias,1  to  which  it  is  scarcely  inferior  in 
spirited  delineations  of  human  character,  and  in  the  variety  of  events  which  it  relates. 
But  as  a  description  of  actual  occurrences  illustrating  the  domestic  and  political  condi 
tion  of  Italy,  at  a  period  fraught  with  interest  to  all  classes  of  readers,  it  far  transcendi 
in  importance  any  work  of  mere  fiction." — Dublin  Evening  Mail. 


CONTEMPORARY  BIOGRAPHY 


OR  SKETCHES  OF  LIYING  NOTABLES, 

AUTHORS  ENGINEERS  PHILANTHROPISTS 

ARCHITECTS         JOURNALISTS  PREACHERS 

ARTISTS  MINISTERS  SAVANS 

COMPOSERS  MONARCHS  STATESMEN 

DEMAGOGUES       NOVELISTS  TRAVELLERS 

DIVINES  POLITICIANS  VOYAGERS 

DRAMATISTS          POETS  WARRIORS 

{»,  One  Vol.,  12mo,  containing  nearly  Nine  Hundred  Biograph 
icat  Sketches  —  PRICE  $1.50. 

"  I  am  glad  to  learn  that  you  are  publishing  this  work.  It  is  precisely  that  kind  ol 
Information  that  every  public  and  intelligent  man  desires  to  see,  especially  in  reference 
to  the  distinguished  men  of  Europe,  but  which  I  have  found  it  extremely  difficult  tc 
obtain."  —  Extract  from  a  Letter  of  the  President  of  the  United  States  to  the  publisher. 

«•  In  its  practical  usefulness  this  work  will  supply  a  most  important  desideratum."  — 
Courier  fy  Enquirer. 

"  It  forms  a  valuable  manual  for  reference,  especially  in  the  American  department, 
which  we  can  not  well  do  without  ;  we  commend  it  to  the  attention  of  our  '  reading 
public.'  "—Tribune. 

'•  Just  the  book  we  have  desired  a  hundred  times,  brief,  statistical  and  biographical 
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"  It  is  a  book  of  reference  which  every  newspaper  reader  should  have  at  his  elbow  — 
as  indispensable  as  a  map  or  a  dictionary  —  and  from  which  the  best-informed  will  de- 
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how  any  one  could  do  without  it."  —  Albany  Express. 

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to  have  been  used  to  secure  the  highest  degree  of  correctness.  It  contains  a  great  deal 
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reading  and  study,  but  as  a  book  of  reference.  It  is  certainly  the  fullest  collection  of 
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gator,  or  a  Wall  street  man  his  almanac  and  interest  tables."  —  New  York  Day  Book. 

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oource  of  information  to  readers  at  large."  —  N.  Y.  Reveille. 

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panion  in  the  library,  office,  and  studio."  —  Northern  Budget. 

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M  Webster's  Dictiouary."  —  Lockport  Courier. 


REDFIKLD'S  NEW  AND  POPULAR  PUBLICATIONS. 
"SHAKESPEAKE  AS  HE  WROTE  IT." 

THE  WORKS  OF  SHAKESPEARE, 

Reprinted  from  the  newly-discovered  copy  of  the  Folio  of  1632, 
in  the  possession  of  J.  Payne  Collier,  containing  nearly 

Twenty  Thousand  Manuscript  Corrections, 

With  a  History  of  the  Stage  to  the   Time,  an  Introduction  t& 
each  Play,  a  Life  of  the  Poet,  etc. 

BY  J.  PAYNE  COLLIER,  F.S.A. 

To  which  arc  added,  Glossarial  and  other  Notes,  the  Readings  of  Former 
Editions,  a  PORTRAIT  after  that  by  Martin  Droeshout,  a  VIGNETTE  TITLE 
on  Steel,  and  a  FACSIMILE  OF  THE  OLD  FOLIO,  with  the  Manuscript  Cor 
rections.  \  vol,  Imperial  8vo.  Cloth  $4  00. 

The  WORKS  OF  SHAKESPEARE  the  same  as  the  above. 

Uniform  in   Size  with  the   celebrated   Chiswick  Edition,   8  vols. 

I6tno,  cloth  $6  00.     Half  calf  or  moroc.  extra 

These  are  American  Copyright  Editions,  the  Notes  being  expressly  prepared 
for  the  work.  The  English  edition  contains  simply  the  text,  without  a  single 
note  or  indication  of  the  changes  made  in  the  text.  In  the  present,  the  vari 
ations  from  old  copies  are  noted  by  reference  of  all  changes  to  former  editions 
(abbreviated  f.  e.).  and  every  indication  and  explanation  is  given  essential  to  a 
clear  understanding  of  the  author.  The  prefatory  matter,  Life,  &c.,  will  be  fuller 
than  in  any  American  edition  now  published. 

"THis  is  the  only  correct  edition  of  the  works  of  the  'Bard  of  Avon'  ever  issued, 
and  no  lover  or  student  of  Shakespeare  should  be  without  it." — Philadelphia  Argus. 

''•  Altogether  the  most  correct  and  therefore  the  most  valuable  edition  extant." — Alba 
ny  Express. 

"  This  edition  of  Shakespeare  will  ultimately  supersede  all  others.  It  must  certainly 
be  deemed  an  essential  acquisition  by  every  lover  of  the  great  dramatist." — N.  Y.  Com 
mercial  Advertiser. 

"This  great  work  commends  itself  in  the  highest  terms  to  every  Shakespearian  schol 
ar  and  student." — Philadelphia  City  Item. 

"  This  edition  embraces  all  that  is  necessary  to  make  a  copy  of  Shakespeare  desirable 
and  correct." — Niagara  Democrat. 

"  It  must  sooner  or  later  drive  all  others  from  the  market." — N.  Y.  Evening  Pout. 

"  Heyond  all  question,  the  very  best  edition  of  the  great  bard  hitherto  published." — 
New  England  Religious  Herald. 

•<  It  must  hereafter  be  the  standard  edition  of  Shakespeare's  plays." — National  Argus. 

"  It  is  clear  from  internal  evidence  that  they  are  genuine  restorations  of  the  origi 
nal  plays." — Detroit  Daily  Times. 

"This  must  we  think  supersede  all  other  editions  of  Shakespeare  hitherto  published. 
Collier's  corrections  make  it  really  a  different  work  from  its  predecessors.  Compared 
with  it  we  consider  them  hardly  worth  possessing." — Daily  Georgian,  Savannah. 

11  One  who  will  probably  hereafter  be  considered  as  the  only  true  authority.  No  one 
we  think,  will  wish  to  purchase  an  edition  of  Shakespeare,  except  it  shall  be  conform 
able  to  the  amended  text  by  Collier." — Newark  Daily  Advertiser. 

"  A  great  outcry  has  been  made  in  England  against  this  edition  of  the  hard,  by  Sin 
ger  and  others  interested  in  other  editions  ;  but  the  emendation?  commend  themselves 
too  strongly  to  the  good  sense  of  every  reader  to  be  dropped  1/y  :he  public — the  old 
editions  must  become  obsolete." — Yankee  Blade,  Boston. 


14  DAY  USE 

RETURN  TO  DESK  FROM  WHICH  BORROWED 

LOAN  DEPT. 

This  book  is  due  on  the  last  date  stamped  below,  or 

on  the  date  to  which  renewed. 
Renewed  books  are  subject  to  immediate  recall. 


9 
I7Mar-iKTM| 

REC'D  LD 

MAR1  *t  '6^-11  AM 

rini\    AW    VO  —  •"•  i 

OCT7-1966  33 

RECEIVED 

_                                            r%fti 

UCI  29'BB-iiPM 

LOAN  DEPT, 

LD  2lA-60m-4,'64 
(E4555slO)476B 

General  Library 
University  of  California 
Berkeley 

